HD4 Shadows & Swindlers
by KennaC
Summary: Sequel to Press & Predators. Though the wedding is only a month away, the Hardy brothers and their fiancées find themselves embroiled in the twenty-year-old cold case of Nancy's mother's death.
1. Prologue

A/N: Sequel to _Press & Predators. _Though the wedding is only a month away, the Hardy brothers and their fiancées find themselves embroiled in the twenty-year-old cold case of Nancy's mother's death. Separate but completely intertwined paths lead Frank and Nancy to join Joe and Vanessa in Ithaca, NY where they unearth a web of exploitation, extortion and murder that crosses generations.

A big thanks to my beta, Josie!

And as usual, I forgot the disclaimers. Nope, don't own them. If I did, I would be highly unlikely to publish my stories here - lol! ) Happy reading!

**Prologue: Nightmares & Needs**

"No!"

Frank Hardy woke with a start and stared at the ceiling, chest heaving and heart thudding uncomfortably. For several seconds he tried to sort out what had awakened him. Who had shouted? Turning his head, he found his fiancée, Nancy Drew staring at him, blue eyes tight with worry.

"Another nightmare?" She asked.

He willed himself to calm down, realizing it had been his own yell that had jolted him awake. Vivid images from the nightmare played through his mind. He couldn't seem to stop them. He knew that what frightened him more than anything was that he couldn't figure out how to keep the nightmare from becoming an eventual reality – a horrible, heart-wrenching, devastating reality. The logical part of his brain slowly took over - there had to be a way to make certain that didn't happen.

"Frank? Are you ok?"

He could hear the edge of alarm in Nancy's voice but he wasn't sure he trusted himself to answer her. At first he had been able to shrug off the nightmares. But over the last few weeks they had worsened to the point that Nancy had become insistent that he needed to talk about it. The problem was that if he put his fears into words it would turn them from shadows into stark realities.

Rolling closer, he enveloped Nancy in his arms. As he buried his face in the curve of her neck he managed a muffled, "I'm ok."

Her arms circled his shoulders and Nancy filled his senses, her presence calming him as the last of the nightmare faded. But it didn't disappear. It never did, not totally, not anymore.

For several minutes they just held each other. Nancy's cool hands moved in soothing patterns across the over-heated skin of his back. His breathing and heart rate returned to a more normal rhythm as the nightmare faded into the background, overshadowed by the calming and very tangible presence of the woman he loved.

Her touch worked its usual magic, distracting his mind with the near-bliss of arousal. He allowed himself to indulge in her, caressing her bare skin with hands and lips until he could feel her heart racing under his touch. He was unaware of how long they played, the love-making mutual and satisfying.

Afterward, they lay tangled together in the sheets, neither willing to fully break the connection which went beyond the physical to a spiritual oneness that was at once fulfilling and frightening. The soul-satisfying companionship he shared with Nancy – that was what made the nightmare so terrifying.

"Frank, I . . ." Nancy's voice was tentative and he could hear the lingering worry in her tone.

"I'm alright, Nan. Really." He flashed her a grin. "Especially now."

She propped herself up on an elbow, her gaze intense. "No, Frank, you aren't alright. And I don't know how to help because you refuse to talk about it."

He clamped his mouth shut. He should have known better than to hope that he could escape this argument tonight. Nancy was persistent. It was one of the things he admired about her. With the persistence directed at him though, it could be trying.

"It's just a nightmare," he said flatly.

"A nightmare that wakes you up nearly every night lately, Frank. That is not normal."

"I'm fine."

"Are you trying to convince me or yourself?"

He consciously squelched the impulse to pull away from her. The warmth and vibrancy of her touch were the only things grounding him right now. Away from her the nightmare waited. So instead he pulled her closer.

"Does it really make a difference, Nan?"

"I'm sorry. It's just . . . I'm worried about you. If you won't talk to me. . . it's fine. But you need to talk to someone."

He looked into her face, smoothing a thumb over the worry lines creasing her forehead and wishing it was as simple to ease her mind. He knew what she wanted.

"I'll call Dr. Chase tomorrow and make an appointment. Would that make you feel better? I'm headed to the east coast next week anyway."

Her responding smile was well worth the concession and he felt his own lips turn up in response. He loved to see her smile.

"Thank you," she murmured, laying a hand on his cheek. "I just want you to be happy, again."

"You always make me happy, sweetheart."


	2. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Nancy Drew or the Hardy Boys . . . I just like to toy with them I make no money from this!

Happy reading!

**Chapter 1: Worries & Weaving**

Monday found Nancy leaned over a long table in a utilitarian conference room at the offices of her employer, Adams Detective Agency (ADA) in Chicago.

Papers and prints were spread out in a chaotic sort of order in front of her and a scribbled-on notepad lay on the table near her left hand. She was glad that the work she had to do this week was so all-consuming. Even the warm sunshine of the day had done nothing to alleviate her unease after the disturbing events of this past weekend. Between that and the pending departure of her fiancé, Nancy knew she was going to need the absorbing distraction that this project would provide.

Thinking of Frank caused the nagging worries she harbored about him to leap to the forefront of Nancy's thoughts. He had awakened from nightmares for the last four nights running. The disturbed sleep was starting to show on both of them.

What really bothered her was that he refused to talk about it. She felt like she was failing her first test as his life companion. Surely Frank deserved better. At least he had been sleeping peacefully this morning when she left for work. It was a small comfort but it was something.

She was relieved he had agreed to go to New York. After Nancy's former boyfriend, Ned Nickerson, had dropped by for a visit on Sunday it had taken quite a bit of convincing to assure Frank that he shouldn't cancel his trip.

She was certain that he needed to go to home. He refused to talk to her about the nightmares but he might be more inclined to talk to his brother and best friend, Joe. If not she was hanging her final hope on the therapist. Surely one of them could help Frank cope with whatever it was that was tormenting him – since obviously she couldn't.

"Hey Nan!"

Startled, Nancy looked up and it took her a moment to shove the unsettling thoughts aside and focus on the two young women that had just arrived. Her best friends, cousins Bess Marvin and George Fayne, stood just inside the conference room doorway. They presented a familiar contrast – Bess with her long, wavy, blond hair and stylish strapless dress next to George with her short, dark hair and athletic outfit. A smile curved Nancy's lips for the first time today.

"Bess, George, it's good to see you!"

Nancy moved around the table to greet her friends. It had been nearly two weeks since they had gotten together, far too long in Nancy's opinion. Their arrival today couldn't have been better timed.

Matt Crane, Nancy's colleague at ADA, came bounding in a moment later, his long, dishwater blond hair escaping the elastic at the nape of his neck. He held what appeared to be a blueprint. Normally a very unassuming guy, Matt couldn't seem to contain his excitement.

"I got 'em, Nan! I knew I could."

Nancy accepted the prints. "I never had a doubt, Matt. Do you have the write-up?

"I'm still working on it. I only tested the least likely way to obtain the information you asked me for. I'm going to try a couple others that I'm almost certain will work. I'll have the report on my findings for you in a day or two."

"That should be fine. After the test run tonight it'll take me a couple days to get my own report done." Nancy spread the prints out on the table, eyes narrowing as she studied them. "Thanks, Matt. This is a huge help."

Matt nodded as he turned to the cousins. "Hi George. Hi Bess. It's great to see you, again."

Matt's smile definitely brightened when he said Bess' name and the final statement seemed meant primarily for her. Nancy shook her head. Though her attention was primarily on the prints Matt had handed her, she recognized the need to have a talk with him about Bess.

"Hi, Matt!" The cousins responded.

Matt sighed and turned toward the door. "I better get back to it. I'll stop by later and let you know if I'm able to find anything else that will help tonight, Nan."

Nancy acknowledged Matt's departure with an absent wave of a hand. Bess raised an eyebrow at her cousin.

"I told you, George. With Frank headed out of town, the work-a-holic Nancy rears her ugly head. Come on, Nan. It's lunch time. George and I thought we'd come by and take you away for a bit. Make sure you obtain nourishment."

Nancy stood and crossed her arms. Though she recognized the kernel of truth in Bess' statement, there was no way she was going to let that comment slide.

"For your information Frank hasn't left yet and I am at work. I did perfectly fine before he was here and I think I can manage a few days while he's gone."

Bess made a show of looking at her watch. "By my estimation it is now quarter past twelve and you are well into your lunch hour. Not only that but you told me yourself that you had to work _after_ you drop Frank off at the airport tonight. So obviously you need our help finding time to relax."

Nancy chuckled and motioned her friends toward the door as she closed the shades on the windows that looked out into the room of cubicles. She could use a break. Bess and George filed out and Nancy followed not only closing but locking the door behind her.

"What are you working on, Nan?" George asked curiously. She always had been far more interested in Nancy's work than Bess.

"Mm, another of those security system tests that Riley is marketing right now. He's always coming up with some new market niche to penetrate. Matt and I are getting pretty good at it and Riley's trying to capitalize on it."

"Does that mean more breaking and entering on your resume? I'm not sure how Mr. and Mrs. Hardy are going to react to their son marrying a for-hire burglar," George said teasingly.

Laughing as she made the turn into her office, Nancy said, "I don't know. I think Mr. Hardy might appreciate my skill with lock picks."

Nancy grabbed her purse, just as her boss, Riley Adams, popped into her office. "Are you and Matt making any progress?"

"Yes. I'm going out to lunch with Bess and George. When I get back I'll show you where we are so far. It should be a go for tonight."

"Good. Enjoy your lunch. I'll see you in the conference room about two. Is it locked up?"

"Yes, Riley."

The three young women walked to a nearby café that was a favorite of theirs and ordered.

As the waitress left after refilling their drinks, Nancy looked at Bess.

"So, are you still leaving Thursday to join Phillip on the east coast?"

Bess' latest beau, Phillip Colby lived in upscale New Canaan, Connecticut. The Colby's were old money but Phillip's father had used his family's considerable estate and prestigious name to build a powerful, multinational financial investment conglomerate. As the only child of the eminent financier, Phillip had inherited the empire when his parents had died. Nancy didn't know him well but Phillip was handsome and wealthy and had quickly won over the impressionable Bess.

Bess' cheeks colored prettily. "Actually, he showed up here in Chicago last night."

Nancy and George exchanged a look and George snorted. "Wow, Nan, we rate. She actually agreed to come out to lunch with us even though Phillip's in town."

Bess' blue eyes flashed indignantly at her cousin. "For your information he's in town on business and wasn't available for lunch."

George grinned. "I knew we had to be playing second string."

"On business? Really?" Nancy raised an eyebrow.

Though Phillip was obviously intelligent and capable, he had seemed content to live off of his family's wealth. The boards organized by his father had run the financial empire he had inherited while Phillip spent the last several years traveling the world with his childhood friend Gaetano Mancini. It was through Guy that they had met Phillip a few weeks ago.

Phillip and Guy were a fascinating duo but Nancy wasn't sure she had really figured either of them out. Diametric opposites and best friends, the two men had their share of shady secrets. It bothered her that Bess was so quick to become serious with a man about whom Nancy herself had nagging misgivings.

Bess sighed, her gaze dreamy. "Yes, on business. Now that he's back in the country he's beginning a thorough review of his father's holdings and trying to figure out where his talents would be best put to work. The president of the board is, uh, was a close friend of his father's but Phillip doesn't much like him."

"Does he plan to take over as the president of the board?" George asked.

"Oh, I don't think Phillip's aspirations are nearly so pedantic," Bess said.

George rolled her eyes. "So what are his _non-pedantic aspirations_?"

Bess shrugged. "I think that's what he's trying to figure out."

Nancy smirked and couldn't seem to help the derisive tone of her voice. "He's trying to decide what he wants to be when he grows up, George."

"Not everyone is as sure about their futures as you and Frank, Nancy," Bess said with an angry glare.

"Or has the money to indulge themselves like Phillip." George responded, causing Bess to turn her glare on her cousin.

Nancy put a calming hand on her friend's arm. "I'm sorry, Bess. That didn't come out right. It makes sense. After all, Phillip has been away for awhile and he needs to figure out where he fits in the companies that he inherited. That's only to be expected."

That seemed to mollify Bess. Their food was delivered and the three friends dug in.

Bess was the one who turned the conversation away from herself, looking at George slyly.

"So, I understand you spent last weekend with a certain handsome lieutenant in New York, George. Did you have fun?"

The handsome lieutenant in question was Allen 'Biff' Hooper, a long-time friend of the Hardy brothers. Nancy had been the one to introduce George and Biff. George's responding smile was spontaneous, though slightly embarrassed.

"Biff and I had a great time. We did a lot of hiking at Harriman and picnicked there for lunch on Saturday."

Nancy shuddered involuntarily and Bess must have noticed. She chuckled.

"It's ok, Nan, I doubt their hikes were anything like yours and Frank's."

"Let's hope not."

"Then we went on that dinner and dance cruise with Callie and Sam on Saturday night," George sounded dreamy and had stopped eating entirely, her gaze unfocused. "And then Sunday he brought me breakfast in bed – " George's cheeks colored and she rushed on, "I mean, we had breakfast and then we went for a walk on the beach."

Bess nearly spit out her drink. "I take it he spent the night in your hotel room."

George bit her lip. "It just … kind of happened." She glanced at her friends, embarrassment and uncertainty now apparent in her face.

"For goodness sake, George, you're both adults."

"I know that, Bess. But I'm not usually that impulsive. It hasn't been that long since Burt moved out and I'm not sure I'm really ready for … for what Biff seems to want."

George's breakup with her former live-in boyfriend, Burt Eddleton, had been messy but Nancy had thought she was recovering easily. Evidently though, things with Biff were moving a little too fast for George. Nancy wasn't surprised by her friend's reaction but she was worried about how Biff would take it.

"Did you tell Biff that?"

George took a deep breath. "Yes, but I honestly don't think he was listening. I really like Biff and I don't want to hurt him but he's moving so fast. When I'm with him I just can't seem to resist the tide. You know what I mean?"

Considering Frank's whirlwind courtship of her over the last several weeks Nancy couldn't help but chuckle. "I know exactly what you mean."

"But then I get home and I find something of Burt's – one of his t-shirts in the wash. Or his toothbrush that he left in the bathroom. And I wonder if I'm really ready to get so serious with someone else yet. I just don't know."

"Have you talked to Burt?" Bess asked, her disdain for George's former boyfriend evident.

"I have. He's really sorry about what happened but we've both agreed that the break was probably for the best."

"I couldn't agree more," Bess said.

George sighed at her cousin and then cast a worried look at Nancy.

"I talked to Burt this morning, Nan. He stopped by the gym to see me. I guess he figured that was more neutral territory than the apartment."

Nancy met her friend's gaze in understanding. Burt was a good friend to Nancy's former boyfriend and she smirked as thoughts of tangled webs ensnaring her and her friends wove through her mind.

"He told you about Ned, didn't he?"

"Nan, I am so sorry."

"It's alright, George. It had to happen sometime. I'm just glad Frank took it as well as he did."

Bess was looking from one to the other, mouth gaping. "What? What happened? Come on you two, spill."

Nancy pushed her plate away, her appetite suddenly gone. "Ned came to Chicago this weekend to visit Burt."

"Ok?" Bess leaned forward.

George responded, "Ned lied about having a fiancée, Bess. It was just another play to get Nancy to move to Decatur. He thought maybe if she believed she had competition she would come to stake her territory."

"You make me sound like a dog, George," Nancy said, trying to laugh off the disquiet that the topic was stirring.

George pressed her lips into a thin line. "I think your easy acceptance of the whole break was a real blow to Ned, Nan. Burt said he was furious and hurt when you didn't react the way he thought you would. He decided to let it go on, hoping you'd come to your senses once you had time to think about it. Of course then you went to New York."

Nancy shook her head. "It was a childish game to play and Ned got what he deserved. I'm sorry it ended the way it did but I'm not sorry it ended. I held on to that relationship far too long."

George sighed. "Burt felt bad about it, Nan. I think he was still stinging over our breakup and kind of egged Ned on. He said Ned called you in the middle of the night?"

"Ned called the apartment a couple times. Frank was ready to cancel his plans for the week and stay in Chicago."

George's eyes were sympathetic. "Surely Frank doesn't think you'd consider going back to Ned."

"I'm not even vaguely interested in Ned and Frank knows that," Nancy said and then sighed. "Unfortunately, I'm afraid Ned didn't get the message. He's called my cell a couple times today, already."

"What did he want?" Bess asked.

Nancy shrugged. "I haven't answered. And I set his number to silent – is that bad? I'm just not ready to talk to him right now. I need to cool off some."

"What an idiot." George shook her head.

"I'm sure Ned's just hurt and confused and it really bothers me that it's _because of me_. I never wanted to hurt him," Nancy said. "Honestly George, I think it's good that you and Burt have agreed to take a break – maybe you can sort things out before they get too ugly. Just … just make sure that Biff knows where he stands."

"I will, Nan. I plan to talk to him this weekend. I'm hoping with everyone around it will be a little easier to resist his charms," George then rushed to change the subject. "Which reminds me - Biff said they're making the final plans for the bachelor party for Frank and Joe this weekend."

"Well then we better get started planning Nan and Vanessa's bachelorette party. I mean we can't let the guys have all the fun!" Bess said enthusiastically.

George laughed. "After Biff finished regaling us about Sam's bachelor party and how Frank and Joe's would be even better, Callie said the same thing. She said Van and Nan deserved a real blow-out given the two men they were taking on as spouses."

Callie Shaw Kempfer was Vanessa's best friend – and Frank's ex-girlfriend. Despite having known Frank all her life Nancy had never actually met his first love. Callie had been with him all through high school and undergrad but had broken off the relationship rather suddenly about the time Frank had accepted the assistantship at GWU.

According to Vanessa the breakup had been at least partially Nancy's fault. That bothered Nancy more than she liked to admit and consequently she was nervous about meeting Callie. But she was also intensely curious about the woman who had held onto Frank for so many years.

"What's Callie like, George?"

"You'll like her, Nan. She seemed pleased that you and Frank were finally together. Sam was definitely happy about it. I think he was worried that Frank was still hung up on his wife." George grinned slyly at Nancy. "Of course, Sam's never seen Frank around you."

Sergeant Sam Kempfer was an army buddy of Biff's. He and Callie had married about a year earlier and were very happy from what Nancy had heard.

"I'm glad she's not upset about Frank and me. That would make the wedding rather awkward given that she's Van's matron of honor."

"Oh, she and Sam are very happy. I don't think she regrets the way things turned out between her and Frank at all," George said earnestly.

"I still think it's kind of weird," Bess said. "I certainly wouldn't want my fiancé's ex in my wedding. I don't care how over it is."

George shot Bess an annoyed look, then patted Nancy's hand. "Callie said you and Frank were perfect for each other, Nan. She's anxious to meet you."

Nancy smiled at George but the smile felt tight and unnatural.

"I'm looking forward to meeting her, too," she said and then abruptly changed the subject. "Bess, are you going to make it to the fitting?"

"I hope so." Bess said. "But Phillip's plans are still kind of up in the air for Saturday. He did say I was welcome to borrow one of his cars."

George raised an eyebrow. "So you're staying at the Colby estate for the weekend?"

"Yes," Bess said forcefully.

George laughed into her cousin's flashing blue eyes. "And the conversation comes full circle."

"Doesn't it always," Nancy said.

Just like a web, Nancy thought wryly. Start anywhere and no matter which sticky path you chose you could still end up at the beginning - provided you didn't get trapped somewhere along the way.

NH

A/N: Many thanks to my reviewers on the Prologue: Nancy Hardy, JackieJacks, Agent Striker & Emeralds and Rubies. Those reviews make all the time and effort of the writing SO worthwhile! Thanks also to those too shy to review that put my story on alert

This story does have a bit of a slow start. This chapter was pure indulgence on my part, I liked the girl talk so I left it in. I promise the action picks up. I try to balance the romance and the mystery but my stories do tend to be character-driven.

I'll be posting another chapter about every 3 days. The story is complete so there should be no delay in that schedule.

I hope you continue to enjoy!


	3. Chapter 2

I'm indulging here, and posting just a little early. Consider it a birthday present ;)

No, I don't own Nancy Drew or the Hardy Boys. I make no money from this – just big smiles from the reviews!

Happy reading!

**Chapter 2: Flight & Fret**

Frank finished packing his computer into his backpack, double-checked all of the files and jump drives to make sure he wasn't missing anything he would need and set it next to the duffle already on the couch. He glanced at the clock on the microwave. Nancy would be home soon and then it would be time for him to leave. He didn't want to leave.

Circular thoughts had been bothering him all afternoon, refusing to be ignored. He sat down and pulled the duffle onto his lap, rummaging through and rechecking what he had packed in an attempt to distract himself.

It was while he was doing this that Nancy arrived. He heard the door open, followed by her keys hitting the counter as her voice greeted him.

"Packed and ready to go?"

He pulled the zipper shut and stood to face her, his dark eyes scanning the familiar contours of her face and fixing them in his mind. For at least the hundredth time today he thought about cancelling the trip. He didn't want to leave her. There were a myriad of reasons but none of them were compelling. And yet he considered each before discarding them all once again. Nan would argue with him anyway and he would give in. Best to just avoid the argument altogether.

"I think so."

"Do you want to eat at the airport?"

"Sure. My flight doesn't leave until nine fifteen this evening, anyway."

Nancy looked at her watch and the familiar frown on her face made him smile.

"It's six already and they aren't going to allow you to carry on both pieces of luggage. We'll have to check your bags. We better hurry if we're going to eat."

"You could still come with me to New York …"

"I wish I could, honey, but with all of the trips that we already have to make for the wedding and the honeymoon, I really think I should save the vacation days. Besides, I'm scheduled to finish that security project this week so the timing is bad. And you have a full schedule anyway."

That was true. His biggest reason for not cancelling the trip was that it would be a major pain to reschedule everything.

But he really didn't want to leave her alone in Chicago. In his heart he knew that he had nothing to be concerned about. It was that pesky, logical part of his brain, the contingency-planning part that mulled and obsessed over the what-ifs. Most of those centered around Ned Nickerson. He pushed the thought aside forcefully. There was nothing to be done about it and it was pointless to dwell on it now.

She sighed and moved toward him causing his heart rate to increase in anticipation. Her arms slipped around his neck and she smiled at him in that way that made the world disappear.

"I'll be joining you on Friday, anyway. You are going to be able to pick George and me up at the airport?"

"Wild horses won't keep me away from that airport, sweetheart," Frank said as he leaned down to meet her lips.

He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her tight against him as he allowed the kiss to deepen, conveying the urgency he felt to have her close, closer - hating the thought of winging his way half a continent away for even a few days. He was pleased to recognize her responding need as her fingers tangled in his hair, her tongue slipping into his mouth.

He pulled back and looked down into the desire blazing in her vivid blue eyes and knew she could see it reflected in his own face. He smiled, his fingers stroking the small of her back and slipping lower.

"We could skip dinner."

Frank had asked Joe to pick him up at the airport using Frank's car – that had been his first mistake. Then he had agreed to the conciliatory beer his brother had offered in exchange for picking him up nearly an hour late – mistake number two. Finally, he had decided that he couldn't leave without at least stopping up to say 'hello' to Vanessa when he dropped Joe off at home – three strikes and you're out.

Looking at his watch, Frank opened the front door of his parent's home to let himself in. It was late and he was exhausted. He smirked at himself – maybe he hadn't made any mistakes at all. At this point it felt like he could sleep through a hurricane. That would be a huge improvement over the last several nights of interrupted sleep.

Frank closed the door quietly before turning to find his father, Fenton Hardy, standing framed in the doorway of his study.

"Hey, Dad. Mom in bed?"

"She gave up on you awhile ago. Your mother gets grumpy if she gets to bed too late. Are you ready to sleep or would you like to sit and talk with your old man for a bit?"

Frank's stomach grumbled, reminding him he had skipped dinner. The greasy appetizer at the bar had done little but soak up the beer he had shared with his brother.

"I could use something to eat. What's in the fridge?"

His father raised a conspiratorial eyebrow and steered him toward the kitchen with an arm around his shoulders.

"Well, you can have a sandwich. And then maybe you can cut the apple pie your mom made. She told _me_ to stay out of it. But I'm sure if _you_ were to cut into it and maybe give me a piece that your mother wouldn't complain."

Frank grinned. "I would skip the sandwich for a piece of Mom's apple pie."

nhnhnhnhnhnh

Within minutes the two men sat across from each other at the kitchen table and two large wedges of the pie were rapidly disappearing. Fenton studied his son covertly as they ate. What had happened a few weeks ago haunted his own mind – the image of his eldest son blood-smeared and covered in cigarette burns tied spread-eagle to a bed was not something he would soon forget. He could tell the ordeal was still working on Frank as well. There were dark circles under his eyes and his tanned complexion had a definite gray hue to it.

He knew part of the reason Frank was here now was because Nancy had urged him to take care of things back home, including a visit to the therapist his doctor had recommended after the Bucciano kidnapping. He was glad Frank had agreed. Through Joe, he and Laura had learned of Frank's continuing nightmares. Something was still troubling him and it wouldn't do to allow it to fester.

Fenton tried a fairly innocuous question to see if his son was ready to talk. "So, what's on your itinerary for the week?"

"I have a meeting with Larry tomorrow. I think I'm going to try and schedule my thesis defense for early September which will give me most of fall quarter to finalize it so I can graduate. That will also give me a final deadline. Otherwise I'm going to keep tweaking the damn thing until I'm old and gray."

"Always the perfectionist."

Frank gave a self-deprecating chuckle. Fenton smiled. If there was nothing else he had done for his sons, he had taught them to recognize their own strengths and weaknesses and to compensate for them. Of course, perfectionism was a double-edged sword. One that Frank usually wielded quite handily - his thesis being a case in point.

"Wednesday I need to take care of things with my apartment in DC. Rachel is graduating and moving out so I need to get the place cleaned up and turned back over. Hopefully I'll get my deposit back. Then my appointment with Dr. Chase is on Thursday afternoon so I'll be back from DC in the morning at the latest. I'm hoping that doesn't take too long."

"And Nancy will be arriving on Friday?"

"Yes. George is coming with her."

"Bess?"

"Bess is actually flying in to visit Phillip on Thursday, so she'll already be on the east coast."

"Sounds serious."

Frank shrugged. "As serious as Bess ever seems to get."

"Biff called and said he would be in town on Thursday. Apparently he has a few days leave. He wanted me to let you know."

"That's great. He can join Joe, Tony, Chet and I for dinner Thursday night. Phil can't make it but he'll be in town for the weekend."

"I was rather surprised when Biff asked me if George was coming …"

Fenton let the comment hang and saw amusement lighten Frank's face, though he thought he detected a hint of worry, as well.

"Yeah, he's really smitten. I think George is, too. It's just . . . I don't want Biff to get caught in the rebound. She and Burt had a pretty messy breakup and I'm not real sure how 'over' it is."

"They're both adults, Frank. You can't protect everyone."

Fenton sighed at the distraught look that crossed Frank's face. Though he knew over-protectiveness was a common trait in oldest children, Frank took it to a whole new level. The look vanished as quickly as it had appeared and Fenton allowed his son to shrug it off.

"Mom hasn't lost her touch. The pie is delicious."

Frank stood and carried his plate to the sink, rinsing and loading it into the dishwasher.

"I'm going to head to bed, Dad. I'll see you in the morning."

"Good night, son."

Fenton ate the rest of his pie in silence. Something was bothering Frank but Fenton could tell he wasn't ready to discuss it.

He tidied the kitchen and then went to bed where he found Laura was awake.

"Frank finally made it home?"

He flipped on the small light on the bedside table. "Yes. He spent some time at Vanessa and Joe's before coming here."

"How is he?"

Laura's pretty face was pinched with worry. He smoothed a hand over her hair.

"Something is troubling him but he's not ready to talk about it and I think we should respect that. He has an appointment with Dr. Chase on Thursday, so he's working it out just as we'd expect him to."

"Only because Nancy nagged him to go," Laura said.

"The point being that he is going. Frank will be fine, Laura." Fenton stood and began to get ready for bed. He suddenly felt very old and tired.

Laura rolled over and watched him, bright blue eyes still tight with worry. "He's under so much pressure right now, Fenton. The wedding, his thesis, deciding what to do after he graduates –"

"Frank puts a lot of that pressure on himself. You know that and so does he. He just needs time and space to deal with whatever is going on in that over-developed brain of his. Honestly, half the time I think that boy ties himself in knots over things he has absolutely no control over. Kind of like you sitting in here worrying about him."

Laura finally relaxed and her lips turned up in a smile as Fenton slipped into bed. He loved to see her smile. He turned the light off and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her on the forehead.

"Frank's a big boy, Laura. He'll work it out. You need to stop obsessing about how and just let him do it."

Her sigh this time sounded contented rather than exasperated. He took that as a good sign.

"You're right, of course," she said.

"Of course."

He cradled her head, fingers tangling in her silky blond hair and kissed her thoroughly and deeply. She pulled back rather abruptly and he nearly laughed out loud at the indignant expression on her face.

"Fenton Hardy, I told you that pie was for tomorrow!"

nhnhnhnhnhnh

Shortly after leaving Frank at the airport, Nancy had arrived at ADA and met with Riley and Matt to make the final preparations to perform the security test. Though the client knew the test was occurring this week they did not know when. Riley had decided that the earlier in the week they struck the less prepared the client would be.

Riley had been right. She had made it inside the company office building, acquired the information and made it back out without tripping any of the existing safeguards. There were definitely some holes that needed to be closed up. That was good news for ADA. Riley was a security guru and was already working on a hefty proposal to tighten the client's system.

It had been a long night and it was almost two in the morning when Nancy closed and locked the door of her empty apartment. The silence screamed, 'He's not here!'

She dropped her briefcase and keys on the dining bar and then pulled her cell out of her pocket. She noted with annoyance that she had missed a couple more calls from Ned over the last several hours. He was certainly being persistent. She clicked the phone into the charging base without checking the voicemails. She just couldn't deal with Ned right now.

Turning off the lights, she walked into the bedroom. Before she did anything else to get ready for bed, she opened the little velvet box that held the engagement ring Frank had given her. She was so glad he had chosen to give her the ring that her father had once given to her mother. It had layers of sentimental value and she couldn't imagine a more wonderful token of Frank's love. For the millionth time since she and Frank had taken the 'more serious' step in their long-time friendship she wondered how she had denied these intense feelings for so long.

Nancy picked the ring up and muttered irritably as the old velvet ring bed came with it. The next moment, her attention was fixed on something still within the jewelry box. She slipped the ring on absently and tossed the velvet aside, picking up a yellowed slip of notebook paper folded over on itself several times to make it fit within the tiny space under the ring bed. The folds were sharp, like someone had folded and unfolded them several times.

She carefully opened the paper, thinking that perhaps it provided a history of the ring and was shocked to see her father's name in the greeting of a hastily written note.

_My Dearest Carson,_

_When you asked me to marry you, it was like a dream come true. But you and I both know it won't work. We come from entirely different backgrounds and as much as I wish I could escape my past and join you in the fairy tale, I can't. I love you and if you love me, you won't try to find me._

_Elly_

Nancy re-read the note several times. Elly had been the nickname her father used for her mother, Eliza Morgan Drew. The note had apparently been written by her mother but when? And what was it doing in the ring box that had held her engagement ring? Given that her parents had been married nearly seven years when her mother died the note itself was puzzling.

She walked to her chest of drawers and picked up the framed photograph of her parents on their wedding day. She had always imagined her parents as a young couple very much in love – not unlike Frank and her. What possible reason could Eliza have had to write that note?

She sat on the edge of the bed and stared at her parents' smiling faces in the photo. In just over a month, she would have a photo of her own wedding to put next to it on the shelf. The recurrent and impossible wish that her mother could be there for that day flitted through her mind. She longed to know her mother and times like this turned her loss into a physical ache.

She had been only five years old when her mother had succumbed to illness. The vague memories that Nancy retained of the event were agonizing and long ago her father had taught her to bury and ignore them.

Looking at the clock she decided it was too late to call her father or Frank. She sighed and returned the photo to its spot on the bureau. Then she re-read the note several more times, committing it to memory before carefully folding and tucking it back into its hiding place.

Tomorrow at lunch she would go see her father. Despite his clever avoidance tactics every time she brought up a subject involving her mother, she was determine to find out the details of their betrothal.

After all, the distinguished lawyer Carson Drew had taught his daughter a thing or two about getting answers from recalcitrant witnesses.

NH

A/N: A big THANKS to my reviewers on Chapter 1: JackieJacks, liferscove2118, Nancy Hardy, Smithy, Severedwasp, LazyPanther, Jabba1, & Emeralds and Rubies.

Thanks, also, to those too shy to review who put my story on alert. I hope sometime you'll chime in with your thoughts!


	4. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own Nancy Drew or the Hardy Boys . . . :( I make no money from this.

**Chapter 3: Digging & Delaying**

Nancy woke Tuesday morning when her alarm went off. She hit the button to silence it and shivered in the cold, empty bed.

'Get a grip, Drew. A little time apart won't kill either one of you.'

She sighed. She had gone for years seeing Frank only intermittently. In fact, they had spent nearly two years apart before meeting again in New York barely two months ago. Two months and already her life was totally entangled with his.

She dragged herself into the shower. When she shut off the water she could hear her cell ringing in the bedroom and recognized Frank's ringtone. Dripping, she hastily wrapped a towel around herself and ran to answer it. She cursed when it silenced before she could make it and snatched the phone up to call back.

"Hey, Nan." His deep, sleepy voice made her smile.

"Hey. I'm sorry I missed your call. I was in the shower."

"Hm, I like you in the shower – all wet and naked. The only thing that would make it better is if I was there with you."

"And here I always thought you were a nice young man, Frank Hardy."

"Being nice does not preclude being horny."

The reasonable tone coupled with the odd topic of conversation made Nancy laugh. "No, I suppose not."

nhnhnhnhnhnh

Frank was finally relaxing as the sound of her laughter reached him.

"I miss you, Nan. I've been gone a day and I'm already missing you."

"I promise not to let it go to my head. Besides, it goes both ways."

"So, what are you wearing?"

"A towel. But I need to get dressed and get moving so please don't go there."

"I'm already there, sweetheart."

She chuckled. "I love you, Frank."

"I love you, too." He couldn't stifle the yawn that caused him to slur the heartfelt words.

"Go back to sleep, honey. I'll talk to you later."

"Have a good day, Nan. I'll give you a call when I get to DC."

"Be careful driving."

"I will."

It took a couple more minutes of trivial exchanges before either of them was willing to break the connection. Frank laid the phone on the side table. With the nagging unease of the usual nightmare alleviated by his talk with Nancy, he found himself drifting back to sleep. Closing his eyes he decided he would rest a couple more minutes before he got his shower.

Frank woke with a start and looked at the clock. So much for a few minutes of sleep – he had hung up from his call with Nan almost three hours ago and now he was running late. He hurried to shower and dress. Within half an hour he was jogging down the stairs and straight to the coffee maker.

His mother must have heard him. She came in from the back yard, peeling off her dirty garden gloves and fixing him with a worried frown. He sighed. Apparently she had heard him awaken in the early morning from his nightmare. He sat down at the table in the kitchen and fiddled with a box sitting there. His primary goal was to avoid meeting his mother's periwinkle blue eyes. He really didn't feel inclined to address the questions he knew would greet him there.

His thoughts wandered as he sipped his coffee, another set of blue eyes firmly fixed in his mind. Nancy's eyes were different from his mother's and brother's – more of a sky blue with small flecks of aqua so that they sometimes looked almost blue-green depending on her mood. Her expressive eyes were one of a million things about Nancy that he loved.

His mother had gotten herself a cup of coffee and sat down across from him, making it more challenging to avoid her probing gaze. He flipped open the box in front of him to find wedding invitations and pulled one out – the perfect distraction.

"It's good to see you, Frank. I trust your trip was uneventful."

Frank nodded as he idly fingered the card. "The flight was fine. Joe was late picking me up at the airport, not that that's a surprise."

She chuckled, "Well, you were interrupting his quiet time with Vanessa. Those two have turned into definite home bodies on weekday evenings. I can hardly pry them out of the apartment to stop by for dinner except on the weekends."

Frank chanced a glance up from the invitation at his mother's light tone. "Well, Joe isn't always home in the evenings and he does see Dad quite a bit during the week."

"You have a point," His mother said, catching his gaze purposely. "You slept late this morning . . ."

Frank knew it was more than a simple observation but tried to shrug it off.

"I talked to Nan before she went to work and then fell back to sleep."

If he had thought he could deter his mother with a vague response he was sorely mistaken.

"So it had nothing to do with the nightmare you had early this morning?"

Frank pursed his lips. "I don't want to talk about it, Mom."

She pressed her lips into a thin line. "You'll have to talk about it eventually, Frank."

Frank held out the card in his hand. "I see you got the invitations. They turned out very nice."

His mother heaved a resigned sigh and patted his arm. "Alright, I'll let you get away with that for now because I know you're going to see Dr. Chase. Yes, the invitations turned out quite lovely. I had some reservations when the girls chose a black and white color scheme for the wedding but I'm coming around. I know Nancy and Vanessa were very pleased with the result."

Frank admired the simplicity of it. It was a plain snow-white card with a glossy embossed rose on the front. Black cursive lettering read 'This day I marry my friend . . .' Inside, the standard wedding announcement was printed, but the facing page, instead of being blank, finished the saying begun on the front of the card, 'the one I laugh with, live for, dream with, love.'

At the bottom of the same page was something that Frank didn't recall noticing when he looked at the mock-up that Vanessa had scanned and sent to them in Chicago via email. Below the words 'In memory of' were two small red roses. Next to one was the name of Vanessa's deceased father and next to the other was the name of Nancy's deceased mother.

"I saw the card but I don't remember this," Frank said, turning it to his mother and running a thumb over the two roses.

His mother smiled. "Vanessa and Nancy talked a long time about the wording of the invitations. They both felt it would be wrong to ignore their lost parents but weren't too sure how to include them. I suggested the 'In memory of' section. I think it's very nice."

Frank nodded. "It's interesting that Joe is marrying a woman who lost a father and I'm marrying a woman who lost a mother – both from illness, too. I know Van's dad lingered quite awhile with the cancer. Was Nan's mother ill for a long time?"

He thought it was odd that he didn't know. His parents had been friends with the Drews all his life. His curiosity was piqued when he saw the troubled look that crossed his mother's face at his question. He set the invitation down and leveled her with a curious gaze.

"What's wrong, Mom?"

She changed the subject. "When are you planning to leave for DC?"

Frank's eyes narrowed but he did respond. "I'm going to leave shortly. I don't meet with Larry until this afternoon so I have a little bit of time. But I'd like to stop by the apartment and maybe do a final review of my notes beforehand."

"Will you be here for lunch?" She asked as she stood and moved to the kitchen sink.

"No. But I should be back tomorrow by late afternoon or early evening."

"Supper tomorrow, then." His mother said firmly as she rinsed her coffee cup.

"I'll try."

"Good. I'm going back outside to continue weeding. I have the landscapers coming in this weekend so that Andrea, Vanessa, Nancy and I can talk to them about what we need to do before the wedding. I'd like to have the worst of the weeds cleaned out of the beds before then."

Realizing his mother was avoiding the topic he had originally raised, he stood and put a restraining hand on her shoulder. Obviously there was something more to the story of Nan's mother's death.

"Mom, you didn't answer my question."

"What question, dear?"

"Was Nancy's mother ill for long? I barely remember her or what happened."

His mother took a deep breath, an internal debate playing itself out on her expressive face. She finally motioned him back to the table.

"I think you should sit down, Frank. I know it sounds like a simple question but it isn't."

"What are you talking about?" Frank asked as he sank back into the kitchen chair.

His mother delayed answering him again by getting them each a fresh cup of coffee. She resumed her seat at the table and looked at him with troubled eyes.

"Elly was sick but it wasn't like Vanessa's father. She suffered from depression."

Frank's eyebrows knitted. "Depression?"

She took a deep breath before continuing. "It's a long story, Frank. It started after Elly had Nancy. She developed a severe case of post-partum depression, which isn't terribly unusual. She seemed to get better once they got her hormones regulated but then she and Carson decided they wanted to have another child and they had to take her off the medication."

His mother took a sip of her coffee. The sadness in her voice was reflected in her eyes as she continued, "I think Elly would have been ok – she was really doing quite well without the meds. She even dealt with their continuing inability to get pregnant calmly."

"Then Nancy started kindergarten and she began to get rather desperate to have another child. It was only a few months later that Carson's parents were killed very suddenly in a car accident. That devastated both of them. Elly began slipping into a funk again but she refused to go back on her medications because she was still intent on having a baby."

"Why don't I remember this?"

"This all happened when you were quite young, Frank. In fact, do you remember Nancy and her mother coming to visit us for spring break while you were in kindergarten?"

"Vaguely."

"Carson thought that perhaps the trip would help Elly. He had to go to St. Louis for a convention and considered taking them with him. But he was afraid that she would be left alone too much of the time. Sending her to visit us and Eloise in New York was a good compromise. It got her out of town while he was gone but gave her a good support group to keep her occupied."

"Carson flew to New York after the conference, stayed for a few days with Elly and Nancy and then they all flew back to Chicago. Eliza seemed to be improving a great deal. Their visit was really pleasant and Elly was in a very upbeat mood. I really thought she was getting better."

"But she wasn't."

A tear slipped down his mother's cheek. "It was only a few weeks later that Nancy came home from school to find her mother dead of an overdose. And the really sad part was that she took her unborn child with her. She was about six weeks pregnant when it happened."

Frank stared at his mother. "I've read the articles in Nan's scrap book, Mom. They say that her mother died of an illness."

"Depression is an illness, Franklin. In my mind and I'm sure in Carson's that is always how he has viewed Elly's death. It nearly destroyed him."

"That was right before Nan came and stayed with us all summer. I remember _that_," Frank said.

His mother nodded. "Luckily it all occurred right at the end of the school year. Eloise was able to fly straight out and of course, your father dropped everything too. He brought Nancy home with him about a week after Elly's death and she stayed with us that summer while Eloise and Fenton got Carson through the worst of the grieving process. I think the only thing that kept Carson from totally losing it was knowing that he had his little girl to take care of."

Frank was having a difficult time absorbing what he was hearing. It was a far cry from what he had always believed about Nancy's mother's death.

"Does Nan know all of this?"

"I honestly don't know, Frank. And please be very careful broaching the subject. Carson rarely speaks of Elly to us. I don't know but I imagine the same is true of Nancy. The memories of that time have to be incredibly painful for him. He was absolutely devoted to Eliza and I don't think he's ever truly gotten over the fact that she chose death over staying with him and their daughter. Her suicide affects him to this day."

"I can imagine." The story had caused the nagging unease of the nightmare to resurface. Frank stood abruptly. He needed some space and some air. He should get moving, anyway. "I have to get on the road."

His mother stood, too. "And I should get back out to the weeding. You have a safe trip, dear. I'll be looking forward to seeing you tomorrow for dinner."

He leaned down and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks, Mom. Don't work too hard."

She waved a dismissive hand as she grabbed her gloves. "Gardening has never been work to me."

Frank drained his coffee cup and put it in the dishwasher as his mother disappeared out the back door. He then searched the cupboards for a travel mug, which he filled with more coffee. Back in his room he gathered his backpack and garment bag before heading out the door. The drive to DC would give him some quiet time to clear his head and get into the right frame of mind for meeting with his thesis advisor this afternoon.

Unfortunately, there was a lot to clear out of his head.

nhnhnhnhnhnh

Joe strolled into his office, dumping his briefcase on the floor and dropping into the worn chair behind the cluttered desk. He yawned and stretched, and then grimaced when he saw his father step out into the hallway and head in his direction.

"You're late."

"Frank's fault. He stayed and visited way past my bed time last night." Joe said with a shrug. He knew his Dad wouldn't yell at Frank.

He sat forward as his father moved into his office and took a seat in one of the leather visitor's chairs in front of the desk. The troubled expression on his dad's face worried him.

"Your brother woke from a nightmare early this morning. Scared your mother half to death."

"Nan said they've been getting worse, not better. That's why she's been pushing him to see the therapist. I think his appointment is on Thursday."

His father nodded absently, gaze unfocused. "It's not like Frank to let something like this linger. He's been in situations like that before and he's always coped well. I wonder what was different this time."

"It's Frank, Dad. He's not going to talk about it until he's ready. There's no point forcing the issue."

"I suppose. Has Nancy said anything? Has he told her anything?"

"Not that I'm aware of. She only called me to ask for help convincing Frank to talk to the therapist. I told her just what I told you. When Frank's ready, he'll talk. Until then it's like trying to communicate with a brick wall."

His father sighed and stood. "I suppose you're right. I just wish there was something we could do to help. I hate to see him dealing with this while he's trying to get ready for the wedding, finish his thesis and decide what he's going to do with the rest of his life. Like your mother said, it's an awful lot of stress all at once. I wonder if that isn't part of the problem."

"If it's any consolation, Frank seemed fine last night," Joe said. "He was even joking around and giving Van a hard time."

"But he looks so tired."

"I know. Maybe the therapist can help. Frank will figure it out, Dad. He's not one to allow himself to be beaten by the likes of Bucciano. Have a little faith in him."

"You're right, Joseph. You know Frank better than anyone else and if you think he's coping, I'll trust you."

Joe watched his father walk back down the hall to his office and then swiveled to stare out the window. Yes, he knew Frank better than anyone else. But the truth was that he had never seen him quite this brooding. Frank knew how he was supposed to behave. He even put on a pretty good act. But something was eating at him.

Joe just wished he knew what it was.

NH

A/N: Thanks for the reviews: JackieJacks, Severedwasp, LazyPanther, Vee22, Emeralds and Rubies, & Confidential Brunette. Those little notes make my day! Hopefully I didn't miss anyone with a personal thanks – it's been kind of a crazy week.

Thanks to those who put my story on alert or favorite, too. I'd love to hear what you think so please don't be shy.


	5. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: No, I don't own Nancy, Frank, Joe or any of the related characters. There are a few OC's in this series that are all mine for better or worse, and the plot is definitely from my twisted little brain, but I make no money from this. It's all for fun!

Happy reading!

**Chapter 4: Pals & Pasts**

Frank was glad he had been able to find a parking spot as close to the apartment as he had. He walked the four city blocks and used his key card to enter the building, bypassing the elevator for the stairs. Up at his apartment door he stopped and knocked. After all, the apartment was still Rachel Sanderson's for another day and he didn't want to barge in.

The door was opened almost immediately by a stocky young woman with short, curly brown hair and laughing brown eyes. Rachel was a fellow grad student finishing her doctorate in the forensics department at GWU. She had been one of his friends from GWU to actually make the trek to Illinois for Nancy and his engagement party a few weeks ago.

"Frank! I didn't expect to see you until tomorrow."

"I have a meeting with Larry this afternoon to discuss the timing of my defense so I came in today. Don't worry, I can get a hotel. I was just hoping to drop my bags here for the afternoon –"

"Don't be ridiculous," Rachel said, grabbing his arm and pulling him into the apartment. "I was planning to stay at Bry's tonight anyway so the place is yours. We'll be back tomorrow to help you get everything clean and patched up."

Frank's eyes landed on the box of files sitting on the coffee table and the bound volume next to it that looked like it had never been opened.

"Is that it?" He asked.

A wide smile split Rachel's face and she picked up the dark brown, leather-bound book almost reverently.

"This is it. Four years of my life condensed into one volume. I cannot tell you what a relief it is to be _done_!"

Frank dropped his bags onto the couch and accepted the volume, opening the front cover carefully.

"Oh, I can imagine. Hopefully it won't be long until I have my own."

He glanced at the dedication she had written and spied his name. There was a group of them, about half a dozen grad students from the forensics department that hung out together and encouraged each other. It was not an easy program and having someone there to cheer you on when things became too stressful was essential.

He handed the book back to her and she laid it on top of the box of files.

"I don't think it will take us too long tomorrow, Frank. We were thinking that afterwards maybe we'd hit Froggy and just chill for awhile. You'll come, won't you?"

Froggy Bottom Bar, located just off campus, was a favorite hang out for their group and Frank would normally jump at the opportunity for a relaxing evening with his friends. Unfortunately, he already had other plans.

"I'm going to have to be on the road by tomorrow afternoon."

"Tonight, then." Rachel's tone told him it wasn't a question.

"Sure."

She waved her hands around uncharacteristically. "Anyway, like I was saying. I have a little more packing to do and I was going to run a few errands but I plan to stay at Bry's tonight . . ."

Rachel stopped and turned to face him, her hands on her hips. "Frank Hardy, I'm disappointed in you."

He looked at her blankly. Then his eyes caught the glint on her left hand and he grinned at her. "He finally asked you, huh?"

Frank hadn't thought it would be possible for Rachel's smile to get any wider but it did.

"I have to thank you. I think you inspired Bryan. That engagement party was something else. You have really ritzy friends."

"That was not typical, trust me. I think Yvonne just felt like she owed us and that was how she repaid."

He followed Rachel into the bedroom. His eyes strayed to a shelf where several photos of his family still sat. He had cleared the lower shelves for Rachel but he hadn't totally moved out, since it was a friend that was subletting. He stood and walked over. One of the photos was missing. In the dust on the shelf he could see where it had sat.

"Hey, Rach, where did the picture of Nan and me in Egypt go?"

Rachel walked over and looked at the shelf. "I honestly don't know. I haven't touched your stuff – obviously." She tsked. "Guess I should have dusted while you were gone."

"Maybe it fell off the shelf."

Rachel shook her head. "I would have thought I'd notice it on the floor."

They searched the floor, going so far as to pull out the dresser and look behind it but they didn't find the missing picture.

"I don't know, Frank. It can't have been missing long. There's a definite clean spot on the shelf."

"Weird." Frank was disappointed but knew he could get another copy of the picture. It had sentimental value for him, especially now that he and Nancy were finally together. He knew that it had been on that trip that he had fallen irrevocably in love with her - even if it had taken him a couple years to finally accept and act on it.

"We'll find it tomorrow – we'll have to pull everything out and clean. Nothing will hide from the Rachel cleaning machine." She glanced at the dusty shelf with the clean spot and grimaced. "Once she gets going, that is."

Frank grinned at his friend. "I'm afraid."

"And well you should be!" Rachel turned back to the closet to resume packing. "So, Nan didn't come with you?"

Frank sat on the edge of the bed and propped his elbows on his knees. "She's trying to conserve her vacation days. We have a lot of wedding stuff and the honeymoon and … everything. She's joining me back in Bayport on Friday."

"For _more_ wedding stuff?"

Frank snorted. "Yeah, Van and Nan are going to the seamstress for gown alterations while Joe, the groomsmen and I go to the tux shop."

"Is this the first trip apart since the engagement?" She was looking at him critically.

He sat up and nodded. "I miss her and we've only been apart a day. Pitiful, huh?"

Frank knew his appearance was pretty rough. He ran his hands back through his hair, hoping Rachel accepted the explanation for it.

"Well, I hope Nancy realizes just how lucky she is. I figured when you met the right girl you'd be the most devoted boyfriend alive. God knows you're picky enough."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I mean that in the two years I've known you, Frank, every warm blooded girl in the forensics department has thrown herself at you, some more persistently than others and you have steadfastly maintained your bachelorhood. You know, there were rumors that you might be gay."

Frank laughed. "Damn. If I'd thought of that I could have avoided all the unpleasantness with Fawn."

Fawn Jackson had started at GWU the same time as Frank. Fawn was beautiful, with her wavy white blond hair and wraith-like figure, and she knew it. She had latched on to Frank immediately, blatantly expressing her interest in him. Given that at the time he was still reeling over Callie's breakup with him he had basically ignored her advances.

After a year of Fawn's persistent flirting Frank had finally relented and gone on a date with her – one. The fact that he immediately decided she wasn't his type seemed to make her that much more determined to have him. For an intelligent woman she was amazingly thick when it came to the fact that he wasn't interested.

Rachel laughed with him but mention of Fawn seemed to have put her on edge. "I don't know. Fawn is self-centered enough that she probably would have thought she could make you change your colors. Be warned. She stopped by here the other day. She has plans. She heard you were coming into town and she's determined to get you alone."

He rubbed the back of his neck. "She doesn't take a hint, does she?"

"I keep telling you, Frank. You're going to have to be blunt with her to make her understand that she doesn't have a chance. Even the engagement isn't deterring her."

Frank shrugged. "I'm only here for a couple days. I can avoid her for that long."

"You keep telling yourself that."

Frank stood. "Listen Rach, I'm gonna head in to the office. I have some things I want to review before my meeting with Larry. I'll see you later?"

Rachel followed him back into the living room. "Ha, you've been gone for two months and into all sorts of excitement about which there are rumors all over the department. You think you're going to quietly slip into your office and actually work. Really?"

Frank shrugged and picked up his computer backpack and shouldered it. "I can try."

"Good luck with that!" Rachel grinned at him as he turned and headed out of the apartment to make the trek to campus.

nhnhnhnhnhnh

Carson Drew stood and stretched. He greatly disliked these days spent on paperwork in the office but recognized that they were necessary. As a senior partner in the law firm, much of the tedium he could slough off on a junior associate but there were some things that couldn't be delegated.

The intercom buzzed and he reached over to push the button. "Yes, Jessica?"

"Nancy is here to see you, Mr. Drew."

He sighed. His new secretary was still learning. "You don't have to announce my daughter, Jessica. Just let her in."

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir."

"Quite alright."

He came around the large mahogany desk as Nancy walked through the door. She greeted him with a warm hug and a kiss on the cheek but something in her expression told him that this was not a casual visit.

"Hi, Dad. I'm glad I caught you here. I was afraid you might be in court."

"Not today. Today is my drudgery day. I have to get the paperwork wrapped up for the week so I can head to DC on Wednesday. I'm glad you stopped by. It gives me an excuse to take a break."

"I'm glad I could help." Nancy's smile was genuine and he felt his own mouth turn up in a responding grin. She had always been his saving grace – the one thing that remained in his life that wasn't centered about his career.

"To what do I owe the pleasure? I've seen precious little of you since Frank Hardy entered the picture. Not that I'm complaining. I really like that young man."

He stifled a chuckle at the blush that crept up Nancy's cheeks. It pleased him immensely that she was marrying his best friend's eldest son. He had liked Ned Nickerson, Nancy's former boyfriend, but had never felt that he was right for his head-strong and adventurous daughter. No, Frank was a much better match for her.

"Frank is on the east coast all week. George and I are flying out to join him on Friday."

"Ah, yes. I had forgotten about your plans. Perhaps I should head to Bayport myself on Friday and join you. It's been awhile since I visited Fenton and Laura."

"That would be great, Dad."

"It's a date, then. So, what have you been up to?"

His curiosity was piqued as Nancy began to fidget through the discussion of the minutiae of the days between now and their last visit. No, this was definitely not a casual trip. His daughter obviously had a purpose in coming to his office and he could see that his banal chatter was beginning to wear on her patience.

He folded his hands and leveled her with a knowing smile. "We're all caught up. But something tells me you came here on a mission."

"Is it that obvious?"

"Only to me, honey."

She met his gaze, her smile rueful. "I did want to talk to you . . ."

Nancy stopped and seemed to cast about for a way to start. Carson's brows furrowed. It was very unlike her to be so hesitant.

"You know you can talk to me about anything, Nancy."

She looked up at him and he was bothered by the doubt he saw reflected in her clear blue eyes. "Can I? Because what I want to discuss is a subject we usually avoid."

Leaning forward, Carson schooled his features into a reassuring smile even though his mind churned with worry. "Whatever it is, honey, we can talk about it."

Nancy stood and began pacing in front of his desk. Something was really bothering her.

"You met Mom while you were in school in New York, right?"

That wasn't what he had expected. "Y-yes. We met at a diner in Richford called Mama's Kitchen where your mother worked. I was a junior at Cornell at the time and Fenton was at Empire in Binghamton and we used to meet in Richford because it was about half way between."

"And you started dating and then you asked her to marry you. And she accepted and moved to Chicago to live with your parents until you finished your pre-law degree at Cornell."

It wasn't a question and Carson didn't think she expected him to respond but he did nod in the affirmative.

Nancy stopped and faced him, arms crossed. "Was there ever a time when you thought Mom might . . . turn you down?"

The memory surfaced, as clear as if it had occurred only yesterday. Carson consciously closed his mouth and chose to answer his daughter's question with one of his own.

"Why on earth would you ask me something like that?"

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Nancy bit her lip, forcing herself to push the issue even though her father seemed to be trying to derail the discussion already. She pulled the note out of her pocket and unfolded it, handing it to him.

"This is why."

"What?" He skimmed the note quickly. His blue eyes were intense when he looked up at her. "Where did you find this?"

"It was in the engagement ring box, under the ring bed. So did it ever seem to you that Mom might refuse to marry you?"

Her father chuckled softly, shaking his head. "You're persistent."

"Please, Dad, just answer the question."

Her father looked up at her. "You can tell you're a lawyer's daughter."

Nancy didn't respond, instead fixing him with a probing stare and waiting patiently for an answer.

"Definitely my daughter," he muttered. He set the note on the desk before standing to stare out the window of his office.

"I've never really told you about my proposal to your mother, have I?

"No."

"You know your mother and I had only been seeing one another for a few months but I was never more certain of anything in my life when I asked her to marry me. Truth is, I had decided I was going to marry her the moment I met her in that diner." He turned a hopeful gaze on Nancy. "Did I tell you about finding the ring at Larson's Antiques -"

Yes, he was definitely trying to derail the conversation, Nancy thought in frustration, before interrupting him.

"Yes, Dad. You told me about that. And as much as I love that story, you always get sidetracked explaining how Grandpa was a huge antique buff. Can we try to keep on topic?"

He chuckled, his expression apologetic. "You look so much like her, Nancy. Every time I look at you I'm reminded of Elly. But when you open your mouth, I hear myself."

Nancy relaxed her stance. "I've heard that all my life, too, Dad."

"Well, it's true." He pulled his chair out and sat down, smoothing out the note where it lay in front of him. Nancy took a seat, too. The times her father talked openly about her mother were few and far between and she cherished every single one.

"I know I caught Elly by surprise with the proposal," her father began.

Nancy's thoughts wandered briefly to her own shock when Frank had proposed to her in his hospital room. She forced herself to focus on her father's words, allowing her mind to recreate the scene as he described it.

"I met her after her shift. We always met in the little park across the street from the diner. We met there often and when we couldn't meet, we had a little hiding place in a knot in a tree where we would pass notes to each other. Silly, really. I haven't thought about that in years."

"I hid the ring in the knot and waited for her to show up after her shift. I'm sure I must have been grinning like the Cheshire cat when she walked across the street. I made her look in the knot and when she turned around with the ring box in her hand I was on my knee and asked her to marry me."

He continued quietly, eyes fixed on his folded hands. "To say she was shocked was probably an understatement. She stared at me like I had sprouted a second head."

Nancy imagined that was how she had looked at Frank. Especially considering the way he had started sputtering after the proposal. She shook her head and chuckled softly.

"That doesn't mean she was going to say 'no.'"

Her father gave her a thin-lipped smile. "I suppose not. But the fact that she didn't answer right away in the affirmative certainly gave me pause."

"What did she say?"

"She stammered something about how sweet it was and that she was flattered but she needed time to think about it. She was anxious to leave but I managed to extract a promise from her to meet me in the park the following day to give me her answer."

"So she didn't answer you right away?"

"No. It was the longest night of my life, wondering . . . worrying about what she would say. I even made the drive down to ESU to visit Fenton. He told me I was crazy. I had only known Elly for a few months. Of course I spooked her. It was far too soon to be contemplating marriage. Hell, he and Laura had been dating for over two years at that point and he still hadn't popped the question."

Again Nancy allowed the scene to play out in her head. She could imagine a young Fenton Hardy, probably looking much like Frank, trying to console his lovelorn friend. The image made her smile.

"But she did say 'yes' the next day?" Nancy prompted when her father lapsed into silence.

Carson's expression was thoughtful, his brow furrowed. Nancy found it easy to see him as an anxious young suitor awaiting an answer.

"I skipped my afternoon classes and went to the park early that day. It was a Friday. I was all packed, ready to catch a flight to Chicago. I had bought two tickets nearly a week earlier, one for me and one for Elly, but I wanted the trip to be a surprise. Of course by this time I figured I was going home alone."

"She must have left work early, too, and showed up an hour before our designated meeting time. She didn't expect me to be there waiting for her. She was carrying the ring and . . ."

He tapped the note still lying on the desk in front of him. "You ask me that question, show me this note. I can't help but think that her plan that day was to leave this in the knot for me and take off."

"I think so, too, Dad. But why? Obviously something made her change her mind. What did she say when she realized you were there?"

He chuckled. "I didn't really give her a chance to say anything. I was so terrified she would say 'no' that I tried to delay the inevitable. I pulled the airplane tickets out and told her that I was taking her to meet my family. I started rambling after that – talking about how my parents would love her and my sister would be thrilled to have another woman to talk to and about all the sights I would show her while we were in Chicago – anything to keep her from saying 'no.'"

"But she didn't."

His smile was soft. "No, she didn't. She let me go on for probably five minutes. And then she walked up to me and put her fingers against my lips to shut me up. Her smile was . . . radiant. She said, 'Carson, you haven't heard my answer, yet.' And I knew . . . or thought . . . in that moment that my fears had been totally unfounded."

Nancy smiled. "She said 'yes.'"

"She said 'yes.'"

Her father's gaze was unfocused and she knew the affectionate smile on his face was meant for a woman who had been dead for nearly two decades. No woman since Eliza had managed to hold his interest for long and several had tried.

Carson Drew was one of those men that grew better looking as he aged. Aristocratic features that had appeared arrogant on him as a young man, he now wore with a gentle assuredness that garnered trust. His thick brown hair was now gray at the temples adding to his distinguished appearance. It hadn't been until Nancy was older that she wondered at her father's continuing bachelorhood. Listening to him talk about her mother, she knew why he had never replaced his first love – he was still grieving for her.

"Well, obviously, she changed her mind."

Nancy's words seemed to return her father to the present and he picked up the note and re-read it. Nancy read with him, quickly picking out the phrase that had been nagging at her since last night.

"What do you think she could have meant by 'escaping her past'?" Nancy asked quietly.

Her father shrugged. "Elly grew up in foster care, bouncing from family to family. I imagine that's what she's referring to. She told me many times that she wasn't good enough for me - like money is a measure of self-worth. She meant more to me then all the money in the world."

When he looked up at her, she recognized regret and something else in his gaze – guilt?

"Even after seven years of marriage I think she still felt that way – no matter what I . . . " Her father rubbed a hand across his brow, his expression definitely self-accusing. "I think she had it backward. I wasn't good enough for her."

Nancy was stymied by the abject emotions she recognized in her father's face. She forced herself to focus on the question at hand. What had Eliza been planning that day in the park? And why?

"It sounds like she had plans to leave, maybe disappear from Richford. Wasn't there anyone there who would have missed her?"

Her father shook his head. "She was born and raised in Ithaca, so she was a transplant in Richford. Even in Ithaca she had spent half her life in the foster system and based on the little bit she shared, she had never stayed with any one family for much more than a year. I think that kind of life tends to make some kids very self-insulated. It took me over a month to break through and get her to agree to even go on a date with me. Elly just wasn't an easy person to get to know. I only ever met one of her childhood friends and even then I got the impression she just wanted to . . . leave that life behind her. Escape, like she said. Maybe she didn't trust me not to snub them."

"To me it sounds more like she was trying to protect you."

The snort that escaped her father made Nancy jump and his next words chilled her.

"Apparently she succeeded. I just wish I could have returned the favor."

His intercom buzzed. He glanced absently at his watch and grimaced. "I'm afraid I have a meeting in a few minutes, honey. I wish I could help you more. And I wish I knew why your mother wrote that note but I really don't have a clue."

Nancy stood as her father did. She picked up the note, refolded it and tucked it into her pocket. "It's alright, Dad. I'll see you in Bayport on Friday. Ok?"

He walked around the desk and embraced her. "Have a good trip, honey."

"You too, Dad."

Nancy watched as her father grabbed his planner and strode out of the office, the raw emotions of a moment ago hidden neatly behind a façade of professionalism. She had always known that talking about her mother made her father sad. That was what had kept her from asking more questions over the years, despite the desire to learn about a woman she had known for only a short five years. But the guilt she saw in her father's face this afternoon was something new.

Or was it something she had just never recognized before?

NH

A/N: A big 'thank you' as always to those who reviewed or PM'd. I hope you continue to enjoy the story and if you do, please leave a review or drop me a note. I always try to make sure I respond - that's part of the fun of fanfic is connecting with other fans about our fav characters.

I have also been remiss in not thanking my beta, Josie, over the last couple chapters. She was a huge help in polishing this story.


	6. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own Nancy Drew, the Hardy Boys or the related characters. OCs are all mine for better or worse.

Happy reading!

**Chapter 5: Infidelity & Incredulity**

The ADA offices were not far from Nancy's father's law offices so she decided to walk to give herself some time to think. During her talk with her father her desire to learn all she could about her mother had firmed into a conviction. Eliza Morgan had been born and raised in Ithaca, New York. Her future brother-in-law, Joe, should be able to help her on that end. As for her life and death in Chicago, Nancy wasn't a private investigator for nothing. Riley might even be able to help. She had to stop back by the office, anyway.

But first things first - she pulled out her cell, ignored another missed phone call and dialed Joe's number.

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Joe sat in his car, watching the front doors of the insurance office where the subject of his current surveillance worked. He absolutely hated this kind of case. The wife was certain her husband was cheating on her and wanted proof. It wasn't unusual aside from the fact that the couple was about his age. How could two people possibly be married less than a year and start down this path? The whole idea sickened him. But like Dad said – it paid the bills.

His phone rang and he picked it up to look at the display. A smile lit his face as he flipped the cell open.

"Hey, Nan, I think you got the wrong brother."

"No, I was looking for the smart-assed half of the duo."

"I resemble that remark." He heard a shout and honking horns in the background. "Where are you?"

"Walking. Listen Joe, I need a favor."

Something in her tone of voice struck Joe as off. "Are you alright, Nan?"

"I'm fine. I was just wondering if you might have time to do a personal history on an Ithaca native for me. Kind of a . . . background check of sorts."

"Sure. Just give me a name."

"Eliza Morgan."

Joe pulled a small notebook and pen out of his shirt pocket and wrote the name down, confirming the spelling with Nancy. He tapped his pen on the steering wheel.

"That name sounds familiar. Do I know her?"

"Kind of. It's . . . it's my mother's maiden name."

Joe froze in surprise. "Oh. Um, if you don't mind me asking - why not just talk to your dad?"

"I don't really think he knows much and I don't want to upset him. Will you do it, Joe?"

"Okay . . . anything in particular you're looking for?"

"Birth record, uh, I know her parents died in a house fire when she was around nine or ten, so maybe some information on what happened. She ended up in foster care so a list of the homes she was placed in might help, as well as any information on friends she might have had or . . . trouble she may have gotten into as a juvenile."

Joe started. "Trouble as a juvenile? You know as well as I do that those records are going to be sealed, Nan. What the heck are you digging for?"

"I really don't know, Joe. Just do the best you can. Oh, and I know she worked for awhile at Mama's Kitchen. It's a diner in Richford – apparently my dad and your dad would meet there for breakfast on weekends. Speaking of our dads - please don't tell your father what you're up to. You know that if you do it'll just get back to my dad and I'd like to avoid that. Also, um . . . let's not tell Frank right now, either. He's got a lot on his mind. I'll explain everything when I come out this weekend – to both of you."

Joe stared at the notes he had taken and pressed his lips into a thin line as Nancy's last entreaty reached him over the line. His grip on the phone tightened, as did his voice.

"I don't know if I'm comfortable with this, Nan. What's going on? You sound . . . almost spooked."

"I honestly don't know, yet. I found a note that seems to indicate Mom was trying to 'escape' something in her past, but it could be nothing. At this point I suppose it's just morbid curiosity on my part. Please, Joe, I'm just asking you to do a little investigating into my mother's life before she married my father. That's all."

Joe took a deep breath. What harm could there be in that? "Ok. I'll let you know what I find out."

"Thanks, Joe. Thanks a lot. I'll talk to you soon."

"I'll see you this weekend."

Joe hung up and started the car as his surveillance subject hailed a cab, his mind whirling with questions about what was going on with his future sister-in-law.

If his father and brother found out he was hiding something serious from them they would be royally pissed. Then again, how serious could it be? After all Nan's mom had been dead for years. What harm could there be in learning about her childhood in Ithaca? He couldn't imagine not knowing his mother and he knew that if the tables were turned Nan would help him.

Still there was the issue of keeping it a secret. But Nan had promised to explain everything to him _and Frank _when she arrived this weekend. It wasn't like she was never going to tell them. It was just that she wanted to do it in person. That made perfect sense, really. Now he had to figure out how to manage a trip to the Ithaca area without tipping his father off.

As soon as he got done with this unsavory assignment, he would get digging into Nan's mother's past. After he finished squelching the niggling fear he might just be digging his own grave.

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Nancy hadn't even sat down at her desk when Riley's full head of steel-grey hair appeared around the door.

"That was an awful short lunch, kiddo."

Nancy had the fleeting impression of a large bear growling at her and smiled.

"Yes, but I have a good reason - I was kind of hoping to take the afternoon off. After you do me a teensy favor."

The remainder of Riley's hulk moved into her office. "You have more than enough comp time to cover several afternoons off – or days for that matter. But what's this about a favor, eh? Little miss self-sufficient needs something from little ol' me?"

Nancy grinned at him. "Yes, Riley, from little ol' you."

The small wooden chair next to the door creaked when Riley sat on it. Far from fat, Riley was a bulky six foot, six inch man with the physique of an aging pro-wrestler. Despite his intimidating appearance, his expression now was one of kindly curiosity.

"What do you need, kiddo?"

"I wondered if you could help me find some information about a woman who died in Chicago about twenty years ago."

Riley's brow furrowed. "Who?"

Nancy bit her lip and then took a deep breath and answered, "Eliza Morgan . . . Drew."

Riley's jaw clenched. "Your mother? What do you want to know?"

"You knew her?"

It disturbed Nancy that Riley avoided her gaze. "Not personally. I was on the force when . . . when she died. I knew the responding officers."

Nancy's eyes widened. "Responding officers? Why would the police have been called when my mother died?"

Riley shrugged but he looked very uncomfortable. "It's standard procedure in a death like your mother's."

"What do you mean by 'a death like my mother's?'" Nancy's unease was growing.

"You know - where the circumstances of death are questionable."

She looked at her boss with a mixture of confusion and dread. "What in the world are you talking about, Riley? My mother died from an illness."

Riley's mouth dropped open and he stared at her for several seconds before responding. "No. Your mother died of an overdose."

She gaped at him. "An overdose?"

"An overdose."

Nancy couldn't think clearly. The first question that popped into her head came directly out of her mouth. "Of what?"

"A prescription medication of some sort – I think it might have been sleeping pills."

"You're sure?"

"Yes, Nancy, I'm sure. Listen kiddo, I thought – I always thought you knew. You were the one that dialed 911. Leo said you were as smart as a whip, even then."

"_I_ called the police?"

"As I heard it you got home from school and couldn't wake your mother up so you dialed 911. The police accompanied the emergency personnel – which is standard procedure when walking into an unknown situation."

"She overdosed while I was at school?"

"Yes. You don't remember? Didn't your father ever tell you?" Riley looked angry and Nancy was right there with him.

"Tell me what, Riley?"

"Nan, the . . ." Riley blew out a breath and leaned forward. "The coroner ruled it a suicide. It hit your dad real hard. He begged the police to keep the suicide thing quiet so her death _was_ reported to the media as being from a sudden illness. But the official cause of death was self-inflicted overdose."

Nancy's heart had leapt into her throat and she was finding it difficult to swallow. Riley had to be mistaken.

"I want to see the reports."

"Are you certain –"

"Of course I'm certain. Surely there was an investigation."

"Well, yes. But there was no sign of foul play, Nancy. I don't know what you're looking for but the police report is going to tell you what I just did. Why put yourself through that?"

Nancy ground her teeth, trying to rein in the unreasonable anger that she could feel churning inside. Riley wasn't to blame for her not knowing the truth. There was only one person she would lay that on.

"Can you get me the reports or not?"

"Sure, kiddo, sure."

She stood and headed for the door but Riley blocked her way.

"Nancy, let's sit down and talk this out."

Shaking her head, she pushed by him. "I can't. I need some air."

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Riley allowed his distraught young protégé to push by him.

"Nancy, when you're ready to talk I'll be here."

She turned in the doorway to look at him. Her face was blotchy, eyes red-rimmed and watery, but she managed a calm and even, "Thank you, Riley," before disappearing out the door.

Riley moved to her desk, his thoughts whirling. His hand hovered over the phone as he debated what he should do. He jumped when Nancy's voice sounded from the doorway. He turned to find her staring at him, her expression pleading.

"Don't, Riley. Don't call my father. I'll . . . I'll talk to him when I'm ready."

Riley pulled his hand away from the phone and turned to face her. "You two need to talk, kiddo. You really do."

"I know, but I need some time to . . . absorb it. I promise I'll talk to him. When I'm ready."

"Ok, I won't call him. But you make sure you talk to him sooner rather than later."

Nancy nodded and disappeared again. Riley leaned against the desk and crossed his arms. It angered him that Carson Drew had put him in the position where he had to be the one to tell Nancy about her mother's death. But he felt sorry for the man, too.

Because there was no doubt in Riley's mind that when Nancy started talking, her father was going to get an earful.

NH

A/N: A thousand thanks to those who took the time to read and leave a review: Confidential Brunette, Severedwasp and JackieJacks. A big thanks to those who PM'd, too. I really love getting those notes! Finally, thanks also to those that have put my story on alert or favorite. It's nice to know that you're enjoying it enough to want to know when I update. As I've said, I'll try to update every couple days. The story is complete (aside from editing).

Thanks, again!


	7. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do not own Nancy Drew, the Hardy Boys or any related characters. The OCs and the hair-brained plotline are all mine, for what that's worth.

Happy reading!

**Chapter 6: Imposter & Investigator**

Frank sighed as yet another fellow grad student crowded into his already over-crowded office. Questions rose out of the rumble of low voices:

"Is it true that the east coast organized crime syndicate had a hit out on you and your brother?"

"I heard that they did a real number on you and your girlfriend –"

"His fiancée, idiot."

"Yeah, you and your fiancée – I heard you both were tortured to figure out what you knew – is it true?"

"Well, in one of those out-of-the-spotlight segments, I heard your fiancée was the one who took down the guy behind the whole thing."

And so it went. Frank had told the story once but more people had stopped by since then and he was getting tired of re-hashing the same information about his last two cases with Joe and Nancy.

The murmur of voices in the office had grown steadily to a dull roar. He was surprised and disappointed that none of the professors had come by to break up the gathering.

Bryan Tinkerman, Rachel's fiancé, leaned on the desk next to Frank. At five foot six, Bryan was rather short but he had broad shoulders and a powerful, barrel-chested build that made up for the lack of height. He was currently sporting several days' worth of whisker growth, a rumpled t-shirt and scruffy jeans.

Bryan's proper British accent was a surprise coming out of a guy that looked like he had just stepped out of a boxing gym. "What time is your appointment, chum?"

"Two. I was really hoping to get some work done ahead of it, though."

"In other words, 'bug off.' You know Frank, I think Rachel is quite correct – you are too nice for your own good. I'll clear this rabble out." Bryan stood and clapped his hands to get everyone's attention. "Alright you lot, Frank needs some peace and quiet so let's give it to him. Out you all go."

Bryan herded the group out into the hall where they quickly dispersed and then he turned back to Frank.

"There you are then. We will see you later for dinner, right? Rachel rang and said she wants to go to Froggy tonight. We were hoping you would join us."

"I'll be there with bells on. Thanks, Bry."

"Any time you need a heavy just say the word."

Frank smiled as Bryan disappeared out the door, closing it behind himself. Now maybe he could get some work done.

An hour and a half later, Frank had everything organized and headed to the office of his thesis advisor, Dr. Larry Brown. He found Larry sitting behind several stacks of papers, balding head bent over something on his desk. Frank tapped on the open office door and Larry looked up, hazel eyes sparking with a good-humored intelligence under a shock of thin, curly brown hair.

"Frank, come on in. You know the drill. Find a place to set that stack and have a seat."

Frank moved the pile of papers from one of the visitor's chairs to the floor and sat down. Larry was a self-proclaimed stacker though he could always quickly lay his hands on what he needed. Frank made a mental note to give his brother a break where his clutter was concerned. Joe was a neat freak compared to Larry.

Larry had leaned behind his desk to pick something up and when he reappeared he slapped a copy of Frank's thesis onto the desk.

"Well, Frank, this is quite impressive. I have a few edits – mostly with the material you added for the case study. My biggest comment is to move the case study to an Appendix."

Frank made a note and waited. Larry met his gaze with a bland smile, hands folded on the stack of paper that represented the last two years of Frank's life.

After several seconds of silence, Frank prompted. "Anything else? You didn't think the analysis was over-simplified for the thesis committee –"

Larry picked up the stack and handed it across the desk. "Like I said, Frank, I found a few typos – very few – and other than that I think we should call this a wrap. Finish it up and get it out to your committee members. I spoke with all of them and they agreed – next Wednesday would work for your defense. That way you can graduate by the end of the second summer session."

"But I'm getting married in August. How will I get the final edits done in time for graduation?"

"Frank, I admire your thoroughness, but enough is enough. It's time to give her one last go through and put her to bed. Once your defense is complete it shouldn't take you long to finalize the thesis. I'll take care of the printing for you on this end. You'll just need to be here next Wednesday."

Frank sat in stunned silence for a minute. Larry's chuckle startled him out of it.

"So what are you going to do next, Frank? I understand you already turned down an offer from the FBI."

"Uh, I'm rethinking that decision at the moment."

Larry's gaze narrowed and he gave Frank a piercing inspection.

"I heard that, too. Though Liesle seemed to think you made the right decision. She said you belong in the field. In fact, she and Hank both were impressed with you, your brother and your fiancée – and how well you work together. It's not every day I hear unsolicited praise like that from someone like Liesle."

"We've always worked well together. That doesn't mean we can't go separate ways," Frank said.

"So you really want to sit in front of a computer crunching data as a career? Sounds like . . . a safe choice."

The realization that Larry was right did nothing to curb the anger that Frank felt building inside. He couldn't figure out what the anger stemmed from or who or what was the target of it but the anger itself was undeniable. It took all of his self-control to maintain a calm exterior.

"I suppose it could be viewed that way."

Larry sat back and folded his hands over his balding head, twiddling his thumbs absently. "You know, Frank, I think you should focus on finishing your thesis, getting married and enjoying your honeymoon. Don't make any decisions about what you want to do with your future, yet. Let what happened over the last few weeks fade. Time almost always brings perspective."

Frank's shoulders tightened with every word. "Alright, Larry. Who called you?"

Larry's responding smile was apologetic. "Well, Liesle called me. I think Nancy may have called her. They're both worried about you, Frank. And quite honestly, after seeing you, I don't blame either one of them. You look like death warmed over."

Dammit, Nancy, what the hell were you thinking? The thought ran unbidden through his head but he had the presence of mind to know that Nancy wasn't really the target of the anger, either. He used an offhand attempt at humor to derail the train of thought.

"That good, huh? Gee, thanks."

"Listen, nobody can help you if you won't talk about whatever it is that's bothering you. I'm not going to push. I just wanted you to know that if you want to talk about it, I'm here."

"I can't talk about it, Larry. It's just . . ."

"Just what, Frank?"

The fears that had been plaguing him since his encounter with Bucciano swirled through his thoughts along with how those fears played out in his nightmares. It wasn't 'just' anything. It had become everything – all the shadowy threats that came with a career in law enforcement. He had grown up in the reality of that life.

Frank shook his head. "Nothing."

"What's bothering you, Frank?" Larry leaned forward.

The unreasonable, vague anger welled up, again, and Frank consciously curbed it, again - though he couldn't totally eliminate it. At the moment his advisor presented a convenient target. Taking a deep breath he managed to respond in an even tone.

"I appreciate your concern, Larry, but I'm fine. I'll get your latest edits finished and make packages up for the committee members, along with an agenda for the defense. I have quite a bit to do and I have to leave tomorrow early afternoon so I better get moving. I'll see you later."

Frank walked out of Larry's office to return to his own. Once there, he pulled out his cell and tried to call Nancy. When she didn't answer, he set his phone aside and stared at the wall, concentrating on his breathing. Finally, he opened his lap top and allowed himself to become engrossed in preparations for his thesis defense. The absorbing activity quelled the unfocused anger, though it still simmered just below the surface.

He finished the edits to his thesis and then developed the agenda for his defense. With the final package complete, he sent it off to Larry and the rest of his committee via email. Larry had been right – it hadn't taken him long to get ready.

He packed up his computer and papers and was about to leave when he noticed that the photograph of Nancy and him, missing from his apartment this morning, had appeared on the shelf above his desk.

Picking it up, Frank scrutinized the picture for several seconds before finally pinpointing what was wrong with it. The woman standing next to him in front of the Great Pyramid no longer had Nancy's face. He flipped the frame over and pried off the back to find not a photo but a printed piece of paper folded to fit where the original photo had been. He tore the photo-shopped copy out of the frame, crumpled it in his hand and shoved it into his pocket. Grabbing his backpack, he stalked out of his office.

His anger was back but now it had a focus.

nhnhnhnhnhnh

Nancy wasn't sure how long she wandered around Chicago. She found her way to the lakeside trail and walked along it blindly, trying to make sense of what Riley had told her. Learning that her mother had died of an overdose was a shock but paled in comparison to the idea that it might have been intentionally self-inflicted. Why had her father kept something like that from her all this time? Why hadn't she ever asked more questions about her mother's death? _Why didn't she remember?_

She was startled out of her circular thoughts by the ringing of her cell phone. She glanced at the caller ID and hesitated. It was Frank. Though she desperately wanted to talk to him she didn't want to do so over the phone and she knew she would never be able to hide her upset from him. She let it go to voicemail hoping he wouldn't think much of it, particularly since it was still during the work day.

When it rang again a minute later she was tempted to ignore it, but looked at the caller identification out of habit. She flipped the cell open.

"What is it, Riley?" Her voice sounded ragged to her own ears. Thank goodness she hadn't answered Frank's call.

"Hey, kiddo. Where are you?"

Nancy took a moment to orient herself before answering, "Near the zoo."

"Catch a cab and get back to the office. Leo Penniman's coming in – he was first on scene when your mother died. I think you should meet him."

Nancy felt an odd thrill of excitement. Maybe she could finally start getting some straight, from-the-source answers.

"I'll be there as soon as I can."

She arrived at ADA less than twenty minutes later, bypassed her own office and went to Riley's. Inside, she found Riley chatting with another middle-aged man. They both fell silent as she walked in.

Riley's gaze was assessing as he stood and welcomed her. She knew he was worried about her. Though she appreciated the thoughtfulness, she hoped he wouldn't start hen-pecking her in front of the visitor. She was relieved a moment later as he made formal introductions.

"Nancy Drew, I'd like you to meet retired homicide detective Leo Penniman. Leo, Nancy is one of my most trusted operatives here at ADA."

Leo Penniman stood and took Nancy's hand in a firm hand shake. He was tall and wiry with thinning gray hair and sharp hazel eyes that turned down at the edges as if years of sadness pulled at them with invisible fingers.

"I'm sure you don't remember me, Nancy, but I remember you."

Penniman's voice was a resonant baritone, soothing with an authoritative ring that told you that listening to what was said was expected and essential.

Nancy managed a weak smile. "It's very nice to meet you, Detective. Please sit down. I'm so glad you agreed to talk to me."

"Please call me Leo. All I really agreed to do was come and give you a brief account of what happened the day your mother died."

"But you did perform an investigation?"

Leo leaned forward and held out a stack of papers clipped together. "It's all right there if you really want to read it. However, as I believe Riley has already told you, there was no sign of foul play. That coupled with a history of depression made it an open and shut case of suicide. All we really had to wait for was the coroner's report to wrap it up."

"Is the coroner's report in here?" Nancy asked.

"I'm afraid not. That you'll have to get from the coroner's office," Leo said.

"I've already placed a couple phone calls. I should have a copy in a day or two at most," Riley said.

"Thank you, Riley. Leo, can you tell me what you remember from that day?"

She noted the look that Riley and Leo exchanged – amusement overshadowed by concern. She felt her hackles rise as that familiar protective glint entered Riley's eyes and seemed to be reflected in the eyes of a man she barely knew.

"Let's get something straight," Nancy said forcefully. "I have a right to know the truth about what happened to my mother. Since my father has obviously not told me, I am turning to you. If you refuse I _will_ keep digging until I find someone who will talk to me, make no mistake about it. I know you know how persistent I can be, Riley."

Leo shook his head. "It's not that I begrudge you the truth, Nancy. Honestly, my most vivid memory is of a five-year-old little girl who was terrified because she couldn't wake up her mommy - that and a heart-wrenching image of a man not unlike myself who was far too young to be dealing with the death of his wife. I really think you should talk to your father before coming to me to ask questions."

Nancy considered the retired officer silently for several seconds before responding evenly, "No offense, Leo, but I am now twenty four years old. If my father hasn't told me the truth in the last nineteen years, I'm not sure I trust him to tell me the whole truth now even if I ask."

The realization that she truly didn't trust her father shook Nancy but she managed to hide it. At least she hoped so. The look of worry reflected in Riley's face caused her to wonder.

"Just answer her questions, Leo. She's not a frightened five-year-old any more and she won't let up until you tell her everything. Trust me, I know."

It was several tense seconds before Leo Penniman finally relented with a nod. "Alright. If that's the way it's gonna be, I'll tell you what I know. But not here. I need a beer. Riley, you got me into this – you're buying."

Riley stood and nodded. "Drinks are on me. Let's go."

Nancy trailed after the two men as they made their way out of the offices. Anger mingled with a vague sense of guilt – and both feelings were directed at her father. Oddly enough neither could over-shadow the sense of excitement she felt at learning the truth about her mother's death. The thought brought her back to her father.

How could he have lied to her for so long? Eventually, she would be able to bring herself to ask _him_ that question.

NH

A/N: As always, thanks a million for the reviews! It is so interesting to see what you're thinking so far. Big smiles for: Confidential Brunette (I promise, romance coming ;), JackieJacks (thanks for the EXTRA encouragement, it means a lot!), nancy fan, Severedwasp, LazyPanther, Nancy Hardy, Polgara218, & Agent Striker.

And more folks have added my story on alert or fav – thanks! It's good to know that you are that interested to see the next chapter :)


	8. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I don't own Nancy Drew, the Hardy Boys or the related characters. OC's are all mine, for better or worse.

Happy reading!

**Chapter 7: Digging with Dames**

Joe dropped the latest round of photos on his father's desk and sat down.

His father flipped through the snapshots. "Looks like Carla was right – her husband is cheating on her."

Joe shook his head. "I'm not so sure. For one thing, look at that woman. I mean, she's got to be ten years older than Randy and she's . . . well, she's not that attractive."

His father sat back and chuckled. "Youth and looks are not the only thing men look for in a mistress, Joseph. Don't be naïve."

"I'm not being naïve. I _am_ being thorough. I have found no evidence that Randy is having an affair with this woman. They didn't go to a motel, they went out to lunch. I didn't even see them hold hands."

"I'm sorry, Joe. That comment was condescending. I guess my distaste for these kind of cases have me jumping to conclusions. Of course you're right. Dylan took over the surveillance, right?"

Joe nodded.

"We'll see what he finds overnight. You can pick up surveillance from him tomorrow."

"Um, actually . . . I was hoping to have tomorrow and maybe the next day off."

"That's rather short notice, Joe."

"I know, but, um, Vanessa heard about a . . . a bridal show up in Ithaca tomorrow and she wants me to go with her. You aren't going to say 'no' to your future daughter-in-law, are you?"

"Ithaca? That's a long way to go for a bridal show. You're sure Vanessa wants to travel that far?"

Joe shrugged. "Apparently."

He recognized defeat in his father's responding sigh. Van had Fenton Hardy wrapped around her little finger almost as tightly as she had Joe. Frank seemed to be the only Hardy man who could resist her and he wasn't always successful.

Now, he just had to make sure that he spoke to Van before his father did. After all, Nancy hadn't said anything about not telling Vanessa.

nhnhnhnhnhnh

Froggy Bottom was a bar located near campus that was fairly busy no matter what day of the week it was. Luckily it wasn't too crowded for a Tuesday night which made it easy to find Rachel and Bryan. Frank dropped his backpack under the table and sat down in the seat.

Rachel's brow wrinkled as she scrutinized him. Sometimes it was a pain having a bunch of friends that were trained in nonverbal communication and accustomed to looking for clues in the tiniest details.

"Alright, Frank. What's wrong?"

Knowing she wouldn't let up until he answered, Frank shoved a hand in his pocket and smoothed the doctored photo out in front of her and Bryan.

"I found this in my office."

Rachel glanced at it and then looked at him. "Is that the photo we couldn't find at the apartment today?"

"Not the original." Frank could hear the tension in his own voice.

While they examined the photo Frank flagged down a waitress and ordered a pitcher of beer for them to share. Well, maybe he would share. He was surprised that Rachel and Bryan hadn't spotted the change to the photo. It had practically jumped off the page at him. But the light in the bar was pretty dim and Rachel and Bryan didn't know Nan like he did.

It was Bryan who picked it out first. "Hey, that isn't Nancy. It's . . . is that Fawn? I'll be jiggered."

Rachel slapped a hand on the table. "Why that little witch! She must of have lifted the original when she stopped by the apartment."

"Have either of you seen Fawn today?" Frank asked.

They both shook their heads.

Rachel cast a meaningful glance at Bryan before answering, "In fact, I haven't seen her in a few days. Not since she stopped by the apartment."

"Neither have I. She's been quite scarce around the department lately," Bryan said with a nod.

Frank picked up the photo and fingered the paper. "This is taking the whole thing a little too far."

Rachel's eyebrows flew up. "A little? You are the king of understatement, Frank. I mean, this is just . . . it's freaky. I'm glad Nan didn't come with you. I'm totally creeped out – like 'Fatal Attraction' creeped out. This definitely crosses the line from too friendly to stalker."

"Chill, Rachel," Frank said calmly. "Fawn's harmless, though I do agree that she crossed a line. I need to talk to her and end this now."

"I'm with Rach. This is more like a quantum leap over the line. Fawn might get it in her head to knock you out and chain you to a bed – like that nutty lady did to James Caan in 'Misery.' Whatever you do, do not go alone!"

Frank started chuckling. "You two need to stop watching so many movies."

"And you need someone to watch your back," Rachel said. "I'm not kidding, Frank. Don't take this so lightly. Maybe Bryan and I should stay with you tonight."

"You really think that's necessary?" Frank asked, brows knitted. "I'll be fine. I survived Vito Bucciano - I think I can handle Fawn Jackson."

"You know what they say about a woman scorned, Frank," Bryan said.

Rachel had gone very still, mouth gaping, and jabbed Bryan in the side with her elbow. Frank turned to see what they were staring at and felt a momentary surge of happiness when he saw a head full of strawberry blonde hair moving toward him.

But the woman's face came into view a moment later and the lingering anger resurfaced in full force.

nhnhnhnhnhnh

Mallory's was a small neighborhood pub that Riley frequented, as did many of his former colleagues from the police force. It was located just around the corner from the office so they walked. Both he and Leo greeted other customers as they walked through the main room to a booth in the corner of a rear alcove.

Leo slid into the bench seat on one side of the table and Riley followed, while Nancy slid into the other side. Jill Mallory, bartender, waitress and one of the co-owners of the business, appeared before they were even settled. She greeted Riley and Leo warmly and took their orders before turning her attention to Nancy.

"Hey, Nancy. What are you doing slumming with these two?"

Nancy flashed Jill a distracted smile. "Just after the free beer. It's not every day Riley offers to buy."

Jill snorted. "You got that right, girl. Killians on tap?"

"Yes, please."

Leo shook his head. "This place never changes."

"I thought that was why us old-timers liked it here," Riley said, keeping his tone light.

Jill delivered their drinks. Leo picked up his beer and drained it in short order. He raised the empty bottle to Jill, who had taken up her station back behind the bar. She nodded acknowledgement and brought another.

Riley's attention focused on Nancy, who appeared to be engrossed in the process of frost melting off her beer mug. Her continuing silence was almost more disturbing then the questions she had asked earlier.

Then Nancy's sharp blue eyes rose from her glass to lock on Leo as he picked up his second beer.

"We're here. You've had a beer. Are you ready to talk?"

Leo shook his head with a smirk before knocking back another long draw. He put his beer down and turned to look at Riley.

"Nice. I see you've taught her everything you know about interrogation techniques, Riley. She has your subtlety down pat."

His responding smile felt tight. "Actually, she's usually much more polite than I am."

Both men's attention snapped back to Nancy when her mug hit the table with a resounding thud. Nancy was normally very even-keeled and able to keep her emotions tightly in check but she was obviously struggling for control and Riley's concern increased.

The first time he had ever seen that control crack had been a few weeks ago when Frank Hardy was kidnapped. It had been very revealing to work with Nancy through that ordeal and it had given him a new appreciation for her abilities as an investigator. But this was different. Anger, frustration and a profound sadness seemed to be vying for the upper hand and Nancy was definitely besieged by the emotional turmoil.

Riley gave Leo a warning glance and spoke formally just as he would if approaching a crime scene. "Leo, why don't you start with what happened when you arrived at the Drew household on the day in question."

Leo looked far from happy and took another draw on his beer before he began to relate the story chronologically, mirroring Riley's formal speech.

"We arrived at the scene at approximately 1500 with rescue personnel. My partner, Wiley, and I approached the front door and knocked. I saw a young girl look through the window beside the door. And then the dead bolt clicked open a moment later. I . . ."

Leo faltered and looked across the table at Nancy. He cleared his throat before continuing, this time less formally, a slight smile on his face.

"I held out my hand to you and you surprised the hell out of me when you took it in a formal handshake. You sounded for all the world like an adult. 'I'm Nancy Drew. My mommy is upstairs and I think something is wrong.'"

"I told you to go out and wait with the paramedics for a few minutes but you refused so I had to walk you out there myself. Wiley waited for me and then we went inside and did a routine sweep to make sure it was clear for the paramedics to come in. We found your mother upstairs lying in her bed. A bottle of prescription medication was lying next to her. I felt for a pulse and knew right away that it was too late for the paramedics. Wiley made the call back to the station while I went down to . . ."

Leo shook his head and stopped. He picked up his beer and emptied it. Another appeared without him even asking.

Nancy's face had gone slack as she listened. She licked her lips and Riley could see her as a frightened five-year-old trying very hard to act grown-up.

Her voice was barely audible. "I remember you now. You played cards with me until my father got home. But I can't recall anything else . . ."

"That doesn't really surprise me," Leo said, his gaze conveying his disquiet at the conversation. "We had trouble getting in touch with your father. He was in a closed court at the time and they were waiting for a recess to get a message in to him. Meanwhile, the homicide detectives showed up, took pictures and collected evidence. They tried to talk to you, but you wouldn't talk to anyone but me, so I stayed with you. That was part of the reason I was so involved in the investigation. I ended up transferring into homicide around that time to help with the case load and never left."

"A review of the contents of the medicine cabinet told us that your mother had been suffering from depression. Unfortunately, it appeared that she hadn't been taking her meds for some time. Your father told us that she had stopped because she was trying to get pregnant. Her obstetrician indicated that she had been closely monitored and appeared to be coping well."

"However, the ME confirmed that the cause of death was an overdose and given her history it seemed almost certain that it was self-administered. Without the meds, we suspected that she fell into a deep depression and couldn't see another way out."

"Out of what?" Nancy asked, her voice a hoarse croak.

Leo shrugged. "I have no idea, Nancy. We conducted a thorough investigation – primarily focusing on your father as a potential suspect in a foul play scenario. But all we found was a man who was incredibly devoted to his wife and daughter and nothing that pointed to any other possible suspects. Your mother was a transplant in Chicago and kept pretty much to herself. She didn't have any enemies in town that we could find. In fact, it seemed she was almost universally liked."

"Why would she kill herself? Did she leave a note?" Nancy asked.

"No, no note. That was the reason we kept the case open as long as we did. That and the fact that according to the people closest to your mother she had been coping quite well off her medication. In fact, she had just returned from a trip out to New York to stay with friends of your family – the Hardys. Fenton Hardy and his wife both said that she seemed quite happy while she was there. No one anticipated anything like this happening. It came as a huge shock to everyone around her."

Riley was watching Nancy closely and could see that the narrative was affecting her intensely. He reached across the table and placed a hand over hers. "You ok, kiddo?"

Nancy nodded but it was hardly convincing. Riley squeezed her hand. "It's almost impossible in these situations to understand what the person was thinking at the time – especially if there was no note. Depression can be a slippery slope."

Her struggle for control was difficult to watch. She slipped her hand out from under Riley's and stood abruptly. Offering a mumbled 'excuse me' she hurried toward the ladies' room.

Leo looked after her, shaking his head. "I tried to tell her. She should let the past lie. I just can't see the point of dredging up such painful memories."

But Riley knew Nancy and he suspected that not knowing would be far worse to her no matter how painful the knowledge was.

"She has a right to the truth, Leo. That's all she's looking for – the truth about why she lost her mother."

"The woman had depression issues, Riley. It was as close to an open and shut case as I've ever seen in my career."

Riley acknowledged that with a nod. "Maybe to you it's open and shut. To Nancy, it's a gaping hole that she's going to have to fill in herself."

Leo slammed down his empty beer bottle and motioned to Jill for another. "She's better off just forgetting the whole thing."

Riley shook his head. "I'm going to have to disagree with you there, Leo. Nancy needs closure and I think maybe Carson Drew does, too. They both need to come to grips with what happened nineteen years ago and why."

"There is no 'why' to understand, Riley. You know how these suicide cases are. How could a little girl understand why her mother chose death over staying with her? Or a young man understand how his wife could leave him that way? It doesn't make sense and there's no point looking for reason where there isn't any."

"When did you get to be such a pessimist, Leo?"

"The day that little girl looked up at me and asked me when she could go talk to her mother, Riley. It's wrong when a woman with so much going for her decides that ending her own life is preferable to living it."

Riley stared into his beer thoughtfully.

"You're right. It doesn't make any sense."

nhnhnhnhnhnh

Nancy splashed ice-cold water on her face and then lifted her eyes to survey herself in the mirror. In her mind the red-rimmed eyes that stared back at her out of a ghostly-pale face belonged to her mother - a woman who had chosen death over her own daughter.

Nancy's hands balled into fists and she slammed one into the face of the stranger staring at her. The glass splintered, but stayed in place – the multiple images of her ravaged face mocking her attempt to obliterate them. She leaned heavily on the counter, the blood from her torn knuckles trickling unnoticed into the sink.

Why? Why would her mother leave her? Leave her father? What could have been so awful about her life that it was no longer worth living? These questions swirled in her mind. Mingling with the sadness that always accompanied thoughts of her mother was a new anger at being abandoned by a woman who was supposed to take care of her. A woman who was supposed to love her.

She longed to talk to Frank, to have him hold her and tell her everything would be alright. But he had his own problems to deal with and she refused to add to his worries right now. Besides, he was in New York and she was in Chicago and this wasn't something they could discuss casually over the phone.

Turning on the tap, she rinsed her hands in the running water. The stinging of the cuts helped ground her back in reality. She dried her face and then wrapped a paper towel around her knuckles to staunch the blood.

Right now she couldn't face Riley and Leo. Though it went against every socially-acceptable rule she normally lived by, she exited the bathroom and walked out of the pub without even saying goodbye or apologizing for the damage in the bathroom. She would make reparation later.

She needed some time to get her head screwed back on straight before she dealt with anything else.

NH

A/N: Many thanks, as always, to my reviewers: Agent Striker, LazyPanther (big smiles for you :D – I really loved hearing all of your thoughts on the chapter), Confidential Brunette, Denise Allen, angry penguin (thanks for catching up!), nancy fan, and JackieJacks.

Thanks for sticking with me. I'm noticing on re-read that this section got kind of angsty – sorry for that, but my stories are my personal outlet. Hopefully I didn't go overboard. Things start to even out and we'll get deep into the mystery very soon – I promise!


	9. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I don't own the trademarked characters and I make no money from this.

Happy reading!

**Chapter 8: Anger & Angst**

"I cannot believe we lied to your father like that, Joe. You're sure Nancy said not to tell him what we were up to?"

Joe had spent some time talking to his parents about the non-existent bridal show they were attending in Ithaca in an attempt to solidify the alibi for their trip. He hoped that his father would not be inclined to check his story and apparently Van was nervous about it, too. Her pretty face was tight with anxiety. Joe reached over and squeezed her hand.

"It'll be fine, Van. Nan just didn't want word to get back to her father about what she was up to. She said it's painful for him to talk about her mom. All we're doing is gathering some information about Eliza Morgan's childhood. It shouldn't take too long. Think of it as a working vacation."

"So why are we going up tonight?" Vanessa asked.

Joe grinned. "I found a great little bed and breakfast for us to enjoy while we're there and then we can get an early start tomorrow."

Besides, given the lengthy drive to Ithaca Joe figured they'd be better off driving up tonight. They were already north of Scranton, Pennsylvania on Highway 81 so they were past the half way point of the trip.

Vanessa shuffled in her bag and pulled out a fax. "By the way, you were right – I didn't have any trouble getting a copy of the article regarding the house fire. Eliza was the only member of the household to survive and she was only ten when it happened. Both of her parents died in the fire, which destroyed the home. The article does have a quote from the fire chief at the time. I suppose we could go talk to him and find out about the fire itself."

Joe silently congratulated himself. When he had first called and told Vanessa about his plan she hadn't been keen about the idea of taking a couple days off of work, lying to his parents and making the long trip to Ithaca. Getting her to help by locating the story about the house fire that had resulted in Eliza's orphaned status had gotten Van vested in the project and piqued her interest. In the end he was certain it was at least partially why she had finally agreed to go along with his story.

He nodded enthusiastically. "That sounds like a great idea, babe. Hopefully he's not too difficult to locate. My biggest concern right now is how to get the information about Eliza's time in the foster system."

"I've been thinking about that. Maybe we can get some leads from her boss at the diner. I mean, some of her friends from foster care are bound to have visited her there, right? Maybe he remembers someone."

"Worth a try, I guess," Joe said dubiously. Memories tended to get hazy after one year, let alone twenty. People might well remember the poor little girl who lost her parents in a tragic house fire but would they remember the transient child from foster care?

He didn't want to discourage Vanessa but despite his sales pitch for this trip as a working vacation they had a lot of leg work ahead of them. And much of it would likely be frustrating dead ends.

"We can always try Children's Services," Van said.

"Maybe." Joe left it at that. He was actually thinking that Van might have the best luck extracting information from Children's Services. However, it would require a bit of a lie on her part and he was sure she wouldn't like that aspect of it. He was working on his arguments to get her to go along with that one.

"Well, I'll be anxious to talk to Nan this weekend and find out what the heck is going on," Van said.

"Me too."

nhnhnhnhnhnh

Frank lurched out of his chair and whirled to face the willowy reddish-blond standing behind him.

"It's good to see you, Frank!"

Fawn Jackson smiled at him as if they were the best of friends, her white blond hair now dyed the same color as Nancy's.

The photo shopping stunt had been one thing but changing her actual appearance was taking it way too far. Frank blurted the first thing that came to mind.

"What in the hell did you do to your hair?"

"Do you like it?"

"Are you serious?" Frank gawked at her.

She pouted. "You don't like it?"

"No, I don't like it," he said flatly.

She smiled at him. "Well, that's easily remedied. It's just a wig."

Frank felt Rachel's hand on his arm and saw that she and Bryan now stood behind him, both looking as angry as he felt. Fawn's smile faded as her icy blue eyes strayed to his friends.

One of the waiters put a solicitous hand on her arm and held out a bag, the smile on his face conveying keen interest in the pretty young woman. "Your take-out order is up, Fawn."

"Thanks," she said dismissively. She cast one last sickly sweet smirk at Rachel and Bryan and then smiled warmly at Frank. "I guess that's my cue. I'll see you later, Frank."

She turned and left. Frank sat back down and ran his hands through his hair. When he looked up Rachel was gazing at him like an errant child.

"So, you still think she's harmless? If it hadn't been for Bryan and I being here she would have been stuck to you like glue."

Bryan nodded agreement. "She definitely has you in her sights, chum. Be wary – she's got more tricks up her sleeve then a conjuror."

Rachel's gaze was dark. "She's ruthless."

"And couthless," Bryan added and then grinned. "I don't suppose that's proper usage of the word couth but it does make for nice alliteration."

Frank appreciated Bryan trying to lighten the mood but his dry humor wasn't doing much for him at the moment. Fawn's blatant advances were no longer bordering on stalking. It was disturbing even to him – and he had seen a lot of disturbing things lately. Maybe he had been wrong.

Fawn Jackson might be a different kind of psycho than Vito Bucciano, but she was definitely a psycho.

nhnhnhnhnhnh

Nancy ended up walking home, which was no small jaunt. Numbness had replaced the undeniable chaos of anger and sadness that had overcome her at the pub when Leo's story seemed to confirm the worst. Riley hadn't been imagining things – her mother had committed suicide. It was like losing her all over again.

Locking the door, she kicked her shoes off and turned on the lights. She walked into the bedroom and opened the closet. Retrieving a stool, she stood on it and reached into the very back of the shelf. She found the large wooden box she was looking for and took it to the bed.

The lid of the box was adorned with a carved 'EM' and fitted snuggly over the base. Her grandfather had made the memory box for her mother when she was born. It was the only thing from her lost grandparents that she had and it held all of the things that had been precious to her mother.

Lifting the lid and setting it aside, Nancy stared at the well-known contents of the box. She had been through her mother's keepsakes countless times over the years, using the exercise as a way to acquaint herself with a woman who had been in her life for far too short a time. Tonight the exercise took on a new urgency. She was determined to find some clue as to why her mother had decided to end her life. There had to be a reason.

Hours later the contents of the box were spread across the bed but Nancy was no closer to understanding. She stood and began pacing around the bedroom surveying the contents of the box and thinking.

She was still doing this when her phone rang and she pulled it out – it was Frank.

"Hey, honey." She grimaced at the sound of her voice.

"Hi, Nan. Are you ok?"

Nancy sighed. Holding back tears for most of the afternoon had made her voice sound raw. She cleared her throat and tried again.

"I'm, ahem, not feeling great. I actually came home early today."

"You sound terrible." Concern was evident in Frank's voice.

"It's nothing a cup of hot cocoa and a good night's sleep won't cure."

"I should be there to take care of you."

"You need to take care of yourself," Nancy said firmly. "I'll see you in a few days and you can pamper me then."

"It's a date."

Nancy could hear traffic noise behind Frank's voice. "Where are you?"

"I went out to dinner with Rachel and Bryan and now I'm walking back to the apartment. It's a nice night. I thought it might help clear my head."

"How did things go with Larry today?"

"Good." He told her about Larry scheduling his thesis defense.

"Frank, that's great!"

"I'd really like you to come to DC with me next week. It's tradition to have a party after the defense and I'd like you to be here."

Nancy smiled. "I think I could swing that. Riley told me today that I have quite a bit of comp time."

"Come out now, then."

Running her fingers along the upper edge of the box, Nancy shook her head. "This week is already set. I'll see you Friday as planned."

"I can't say anything to change your mind?"

Nancy slid her fingers along the inside of the box wall to the bottom and stopped suddenly. Kneeling by the bed she held her lower arm up to the side of the box – it was approximately as tall as the distance from her elbow to her wrist. But when she measured the inside of the box it was at least an inch less. She knocked on the bottom of the box.

It was hollow.

NH

A/N: Sorry, this chapter was a bit short. Trust me, I make up for it toward the end - some of those chapters are really long.

As always, a big 'THANKS!' to my reviewers: Smithy (yes, Fawn is pretty sick-o psycho ;), Agent Striker, Karmadevi, LazyPanther (:D:D:D), nancy fan, Polgara218, angry penguin, JackieJacks (:D:D:D), Confidential Brunetter and Sophie (yea, I kind of like the idea of Frank tied to a bed, too – maybe that's why I put him there in _Press & Predators_ lol! ;).

On a side note, before anyone says anything, I know it's cliché having a secret compartment in an old memory box, but I couldn't resist. It really appealed to the young girl in me that used to read the old yellow-spines obsessively ;)


	10. Chapter 9

Apology: Sorry this is kind of late today. I had some trouble with my account over the last couple days (ever since I posted that last short story – I'm wondering if it's a sign ;)

Disclaimer: No, I do not own Nancy Drew or the Hardy Boys. I wish I did, but I don't. I do not make money from this. Again, wish I did . . . then I could justify the time I spend writing :)

Happy reading!

**Chapter 9: Secrets & Sepia**

Frank had just let himself into his apartment building. Concerned by Nancy's lengthy silence, he glanced at the display – he hadn't lost the call.

"Nan? Are you still there?"

"Yes, I'm still here. Sorry. I just zoned out for a minute." She sounded distracted.

"What are you doing?"

"I was just going through my mom's stuff and . . . reminiscing."

Mention of her mother brought to mind what he had learned this morning. He wanted to talk to Nancy about it but that wasn't a subject he was willing to raise long distance.

"That explains why you sound so sad."

"I'm just tired."

Frank stepped off the elevator on his floor and headed down the hall.

"Well, I'm not there to disturb your sleep – maybe you should head to bed."

"Are you trying to handle me, Hardy?"

Grinning, Frank pushed into his apartment. "I wish I could handle you, sweetheart."

He nearly dropped the phone when Fawn Jackson stood up from his couch and turned to look at him. All of the relaxation he had found talking with Nancy on the way home evaporated the moment he saw Fawn.

"Watch it, Hardy."

Nancy's playful tone over the phone startled him out of his initial shock. Taking a deep breath, Frank tried to keep his tone light as he responded.

"Just returning the favor, Drew. Listen, I gotta go. Call you later?"

"Is that a promise?"

"Definitely. I love you, sweetheart."

"I love you, too. 'Bye," Nancy said.

Frank shoved the phone into his pocket and set his pack on the dining table trying to decide how to respond to the unwelcomed young woman standing in his living room.

"Hi, Frank. I'm glad you ditched Rachel and Bryan. We need to talk."

His fists clenched spontaneously. She was being very presumptuous.

"How the hell did you get into my apartment?" He asked.

Her smile faded and she crossed her arms. "I am not going to bother to answer that. It's the reason I'm here that's important, not the how."

"You've crossed several lines today, Fawn."

He thought he detected a slight jerk upwards at the corner of her lips. She thought this was funny? He was furious and it was becoming more and more difficult to control it.

"The line where you tell me you aren't interested, Frank?"

She moved around the couch and stopped in front of him, invading his personal space. He had to stop himself from taking a step back.

"I'm not."

She smiled. "Bullshit. I'm offering you a free night. No strings, no emotional entanglement. Just you and me. Nancy never needs to know."

Frank grimaced. "Sex for its own sake? Really Fawn? Don't you respect yourself any more than that?"

Her face became an emotionless mask save her pale blue eyes, which flashed with anger.

"Sex has nothing to do with respect. It's a physical act and it feels good. You're the only man I've ever expressed an interest in that I haven't been able to seduce. I thought perhaps the rumors were true and you were gay. Then you got engaged. So tell me something, Frank, what are you afraid of? Are you afraid you'll like it? That I'll be better in bed than your fiancée? That would suck, wouldn't it?"

Frank smirked at her.

"Where do I start with how wrong everything you just said is? You are one screwed up woman, Fawn, and I don't want anything to do with you. Just leave."

The suddenness with which she closed the gap between them caught Frank off-guard. Her arms locked around his neck as she kissed him full on the mouth. His repulsion overtook his usual reticence to get violent with a woman. He took her by the forearms to break her grip and shoved her away forcefully. Fawn managed to stop from crashing to the floor by catching herself on the back of the couch.

Frank wiped a hand across his mouth and glared at her. "I said, 'Get out!'"

He was shocked when she chuckled as she righted herself. "Fine. But consider this, Frank. I've never failed to get something I wanted. Just ask Bryan. He wasn't really interested either - until he'd had a few drinks. That seemed to lower his inhibitions. Bry was a little tame for my taste but it was a nice little fling. I wonder if Rachel knows, or even suspects? Hm, maybe I'll have to tell her myself. Why don't you stop by my place later and let me know if I should?"

She sauntered past him and opened the door, where she turned and looked back at him with a come-hither smile. "Or perhaps we could work out a little deal where I keep my mouth shut. It's just one night, Frank. One night of purely physical pleasure for my silence. At least then that self-righteous conscience of yours would be assuaged in the act. I'll be waiting to hear your answer."

The door closed behind her and Frank walked over and shot the deadbolt and the chain. The thought of sex with Fawn made his bile rise.

But the knowledge of what Bryan had done sickened him more.

nhnhnhnhnhnh

"There it is!"

Vanessa pointed as the next street sign became visible in the car's headlights. They had almost arrived at their lodging for the night.

Joe took the right onto a quiet, tree-lined lane with neat homes situated on well-kept city lots. A couple minutes later they found the one they were looking for. The sign out front was tastefully-lit by landscaping spots and announced 'The Lavender Lady.' The sprawling Victorian-style home was impressive with its circular turrets, sweeping gardens and an ornate portico. More landscaping lights lit the front of the house and revealed the reason for the name – the house was painted in pale lavender with deep purple trim.

"Oh, Joe, it's breathtaking," Vanessa enthused.

Joe wrinkled his nose as he pulled in the drive. "The house is impressive but . . . I figured it was named after the plants growing in the garden – not the color of the house."

Van laughed. "I know it's not white, but it's very tasteful. The color is muted enough not to be garish. Please wipe that grimace off your face before we walk in to meet our hosts."

Joe retrieved their bags from the back seat and they walked toward the entry. Swaths of meticulously maintained gardens stretched in curving beds across the entire front lawn. Trimmed grass between the individual beds created paths to allow optimal viewing of the plants in the gardens. The lot was larger than those around it and the yard surrounding the house was more generous than most of the ones they had passed.

"I can't wait to explore these gardens some in the morning. Maybe I can get some ideas for the wedding. Your mom said we're meeting with the landscapers this weekend while Nan's in town," Vanessa said. "We will have a little bit of time, won't we?"

Joe smiled at her hopeful expression. "We'll take the time. If we have to we can always stay another day."

Vanessa raised an eyebrow. "Your father wasn't thrilled with you taking two days off."

Joe's grin turned mischievous. "But if you ask Dad can't say 'no.'"

"Joseph Hardy sometimes your manipulative tendencies are just a bit disturbing," Vanessa said as Joe rang the doorbell.

The door was answered by an elderly woman with snow white hair that brushed back in soft waves from a face lined with laughter. Her twinkling eyes were the exact shade of the house and brimmed with an open welcome.

"Oh how wonderful! Our guests from Bayport have arrived, darling."

A man with an equally pleasant face appeared behind the woman. He was tall and portly with steel gray hair ringing a bald pate. He appeared to be a bit older than the woman but he was no less spry. Joe estimated that both of their hosts were in their sixties or seventies but it was difficult to tell.

"Well then let them in, Anna, let them in."

Anna chuckled, gently nudging the man back so she could open the door wide to let them into the entry. "I would, Arthur, but you're crowding me."

"Ah, sorry about that, dear," Arthur smiled good-naturedly.

Joe put a hand at the small of Vanessa's back and stepped over the threshold with her. The entryway was as grand as the outside of the house with polished wood flooring, deep purple walls and a huge chandelier that hung from the second floor ceiling. A wide staircase arched up to the second floor where the lights blazed in an inviting open hallway.

"Hi, I'm Joe Hardy and this is my fiancée, Vanessa Bender. Thank you so much for letting us stay on such short notice."

Anna took Joe's offered hand in a warm grip and smiled. "No trouble at all, Joe. Oh goodness, I should introduce myself. I'm Anna Haggerty and this is my husband, Arthur. We're so very happy you could come and stay with us!"

As Anna moved on to greet Vanessa, Joe found his hand enveloped in Arthur's beefy paw. "Absolutely, my boy – it was no trouble at all. We enjoy meeting new people."

Arthur relieved Joe of the luggage and waved him away. "I'll take these up to your room while Anna settles you in the living room with a cup of herbal tea to help you relax after your long drive. She has a special snack made as well. I'll be right back."

Following Anna, Joe and Vanessa admired the beautifully decorated home.

"Please, have a seat. I'll be right back with some tea and fresh strawberry shortcake. I took the biscuits out of the oven just a little while ago and we were waiting in anticipation of your arrival. Let me tell you that holding Arthur back from fresh biscuits is no small feat!"

Vanessa jumped up. "May I help?"

"Oh, no dear. Nothing to help with. I'll just be a minute."

Van dropped into the divan next to Joe and covered his hand. "Aren't they the sweetest couple? I hope we're like that when we get older. You can just tell they still love each other so much."

Joe nodded but was distracted by a huge collection of vintage photos on the far wall. He went to have a closer look and Van followed.

The pictures were a mixture of sepia tone and black and white, depicting formal portraits, local area landmarks and historic events. Each was mounted in a unique frame and they covered the wall.

"This is so cool," Joe murmured as he began systematically studying each photo and reading the related plaque that explained what was depicted. Vanessa was doing the same, though more randomly.

"Joe! You have to come see this." She motioned him over.

He approached and saw immediately what had caught Van's attention. In a large frame were several sepia-toned photos, most depicting a catastrophic house fire. Included in the frame was a clipping of the newspaper article that Vanessa had received a faxed copy of just this afternoon. There was also a photo of the family that the home had belonged to.

It was a photo of Nancy's grandparents with her mother.

nhnhnhnhnhnh

Nancy tossed her cell phone on the bed among her mother's memorabilia and flipped the box on its side. The hollow thud of the knock had to indicate the presence of a false bottom in the box. In all the years she had had this box it had never occurred to her to look for a secret compartment. She felt a sense of camaraderie with her mother and the excitement of learning new information from whatever was hidden inside.

Knocking on the bottom of the box, she watched for movement, hoping the false bottom simply laid in place. Peering closely at the inside joint, she thought she detected a slight gap. She braced her hand on the bottom and tried to slide it sideways – it moved, but only a bit and certainly not enough to allow access to the space below it. She was loath to try to pry the bottom out because she didn't want to destroy the box.

She turned the box so she could examine the sides. They were simple flat panels of eighth inch thick oak. A beaded edging that matched the lid adorned the bottom edges of the box. It was carefully mitered and fitted into place flush with the bottom of the box. The edging appeared to be the perfect height to hide a side access into the space under the false bottom.

At each of the corners there was an inlaid cross bar of a darker wood. Running her finger over each of the inlays, she realized that while two of them were flush and smooth with the surrounding wood, two were not. Nancy ran her fingernail over one of them and was sure she could feel the edges.

A closer look at the two inlays that weren't flat revealed that one side of them was low while the other was raised. Using her fingernails she pried at both sides at the same time. They must have acted as latches, because when they flipped out, almost like wings, a small drawer popped out. Pulling it out, Nancy looked down at a bound composition book nestled in a bed of velvet. Her mother's name was printed on the ownership label in the corner.

She had found her mother's journal.

NH

A/N: A big 'thank you' to my reviewers, as always: liferscove2118, Smithy, Sophie (thanks, I never knew that – kind of like fiancé and fiancée – learn something new every day :), JackieJacks, Nancy Hardy, Polgara218, and Agent Striker. You all make the time spent writing well worth it :D


	11. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: No ownership implied or intended, even if wished for. No money made, either.

Happy reading!

**Chapter 10: Innocence & Infidelity**

"Did you know?" Van's blue eyes were narrowed suspiciously at Joe.

He grinned. "I suspected we might learn something here. The Morgan house was just around the corner from this place."

"I should have known you had ulterior motives for booking us at a place called 'The Lavender Lady.'" Vanessa shook her head in amusement.

Anna came out of the kitchen carrying a large platter. Joe hurried to relieve her of the burden.

"Such a chivalrous young man," Anna said and gave Vanessa a wink. "I think he's a keeper my dear."

"Definitely," Vanessa said.

Arthur's heavy footsteps sounded on the stairs. "Do I smell strawberry short cake? I am famished!"

"You could stand to skip the strawberry shortcake, darling," Anna said with a wink at Joe and Vanessa.

"I'm 78 years old. I should be allowed to have strawberry shortcake if I damn well please," Arthur sputtered.

Anna clicked her tongue. "Your language, Arthur."

"Nonsense. These are hip young people not your bridge club. I'm certain they've heard the word 'damn' before."

Joe and Vanessa exchanged a glance, both chuckling under their breath as they all took seats around the circular, claw-foot coffee table in the center of the main seating area of the living room. They made pleasant small talk while Anna passed out tea and then made up plates of strawberry shortcake with whipped cream. Joe devoured his and accepted seconds even before Arthur.

Vanessa sat back and nodded to the collection of photos that she and Joe had been studying earlier. "Where do you collect the photos?"

"Most of them are vintage – I can't resist a good estate sale," Arthur said. "And I enjoy mounting and preserving the old photos and historic articles. I've gathered quite a photographic history of the area, as you can see. I also dabble in photography myself."

"The local historical society has been after him for years to put together a booklet with the photos he's collected," Anna beamed at her husband.

"Perhaps, when I'm older and can't get around as well," Arthur said. "Right now, I still have places to go and things to see!"

"I noticed the one large group of photos over there – the Morgan house fire. That must have been a terrible tragedy," Vanessa said leadingly.

Joe considered his fiancée with admiration. Maybe he should bring her along on inquiries more often.

Anna's face reflected sadness. "The Morgans lived just around the corner from us. Their little girl, Eliza, would ride her bicycle around and around the block. She was such a sweet and gregarious girl."

"And so proud when her little brother was born," Arthur added.

"Eliza had a brother?" Joe sat forward. Nancy had an uncle!

"Yes. Zachary was his name. His loss was the first tragedy to befall the Morgans – he was just a tiny baby when it happened," Anna said. "Amy and Martin were never quite the same after Zachary disappeared."

Arthur shook his head sadly. "None of them were. Even Eliza became more reserved."

Anna nodded. "But she would still come round and help me in my gardens. I always paid her a bit to help me with the weeding. And then we would sit on the garden patio and have iced tea and talk about the plants. Eliza loved learning about the plants."

"It sounds like she needed a friend," Vanessa said gently.

Anna sniffed. "Her mother couldn't get past her grief over the loss of her son. And Martin threw himself into his work and was rarely home. Eliza was just . . . lost, poor child. Her parents had left her long before they were killed in the fire. Such tragedies should not befall someone so young."

"Did they figure out how the fire started?" Joe asked.

Arthur patted Anna on the back soothingly while he answered.

"According to the fire inspector it was an electrical fire. The only reason that Eliza lived was that she was spending the night at a friend's home that night. Her parents were both overcome by the smoke and if Eliza had been home she likely would have perished too."

"How awful," Vanessa said. "Where did Eliza go after that?"

Anna dabbed at her eyes with a dainty handkerchief. "Eliza only had one living relative - a grandmother. But the poor soul was gravely ill and living in a nursing home so she couldn't take the child in. Since we were never able to have children of our own we immediately offered to let her move in with us. It was a whirlwind introduction to the foster system."

"Eliza lived here?" Vanessa asked, eyebrows lifting in surprise.

"Yes, but only for a short time, dear. It was just too hard for the poor child to live so close to where her parents had died. She requested to be moved to another home only six months later," Anna said sadly.

Staying at the Lavender Lady was turning out to be far more fruitful than Joe had ever dared hope. "You said that Eliza was staying at a friend's the night of the fire. Do you happen to know the friend's name?"

"I'm afraid I really don't recall," Anna said.

Arthur tilted his head to the side and peered at Joe closely. "You're related to that famous private investigator, Fenton Hardy, aren't you?"

Joe pressed his lips into a thin line. "Um, yes sir, I am. Fenton Hardy is my father."

"And it isn't an accident that you chose our bed and breakfast to stay at is it, young man?" Arthur raised a quizzical eyebrow at him.

"No sir, it isn't."

Arthur and Anna gave each other a knowing look.

"I do believe we're part of a real live investigation, Anna." Turning to Joe, he asked, "What exactly are you investigating?"

Joe glanced at Vanessa who was giving him one of those 'you got us into this' looks. He sighed.

"The truth is that I'm doing a favor for a friend – a very good friend. In fact, she's going to be my sister-in-law in about a month –"

Joe stopped when Vanessa squeezed his hand. He wasn't making a whole lot of sense. She turned a dazzling smile on their hosts.

"What Joe is trying to say is that Eliza's daughter is a good friend and she asked us to find out what we could about Eliza."

Joe nodded. That had been what he was trying to say.

Anna leaned forward, a happy smile replacing the tears.

"Eliza has a daughter? How wonderful! I haven't heard from her since she moved out and always wondered what happened with her. She deserved some happiness. Who did she marry? Where is she living? Oh, what's her daughter's name?"

Joe frowned. He hated being the one to deliver bad news but Anna deserved to know what had happened to her former charge.

"I'm sorry to tell you this, Anna, but Eliza is dead. She's been dead for almost twenty years."

Anna's face crumpled again and Arthur put an arm around her.

"She died twenty years ago? But she would have only been, what, twenty-five or twenty-six. After everything she went through, Arthur, it's just wrong that her life was cut short. She should have lived a long and happy life after the tragedy of her childhood."

"I know, dear," Arthur said, patting Anna's back.

Anna looked at Joe and Vanessa hopefully. "Tell me that she at least found happiness. She deserved that."

Vanessa's gentle smile soothed Joe's heart and he was sure it did the same for Anna. She squeezed the elderly woman's hand and nodded.

"I think Eliza was very happy, Anna. I truly do."

nhnhnhnhnhnh

Frank listened to the ringing on the other end of the line with growing unease. He was just about to disconnect the call when Bryan's annoyed voice greeted him.

"This better bloody well be important!"

"Why? Am I interrupting something?" Frank asked.

"Bloody hell, Hardy! Yes, you're interrupting 'something.'"

"We need to talk. I'm standing outside your apartment and you aren't answering your bell."

"Because I'm bloody well doing something, you arse!"

"Something like you did with Fawn Jackson?"

"What?"

"Did you sleep with Fawn Jackson, Bryan?"

Several beats of silence and then Bryan sighed. "I'll buzz you in, chum. I suppose we should clear the air, as it were."

Inside the building, Frank jogged up the two flights of stairs to Bryan's apartment. He waited patiently in the hall until the door finally cracked open. Bryan's tousled head appeared.

"Right, we're decent now. Come in, Frank."

Frank walked into the living room and sat down in the overstuffed arm chair. Rachel was sitting on the end of the couch, knees pulled up at her chin, one of Bryan's large t-shirts pulled over her legs. Bryan dropped onto the couch and wrapped an arm around her.

"So who've you been talking to?" Bryan asked.

"Fawn was waiting for me when I got back to the apartment," Frank said.

"I told you we should go with you," Rachel said.

"Rach, don't take this wrong but I'd really like to talk to Bryan privately," Frank said.

"Thanks for that, chum, but she already knows about Fawn and me. You needn't fret about it."

Frank searched Rachel's face. She smiled at him. "It's ok Frank, really. Bryan explained the whole thing and I've forgiven him."

Bryan smiled at Rachel. "That's my girl."

Rachel tucked into Bryan's shoulder. "Honestly, I figured the reason she had made herself so scarce about the department lately was because of what happened."

Frank shook his head. "That doesn't sound like Fawn. What did happen, Bryan?"

Bryan shrugged. "I don't rightly recall. But I knew it couldn't be good when I woke up in Fawn's bed."

"I still say she slipped you a roofie," Rachel said.

Frank grimaced. "Remind me not to drink anything around her."

"What did she tell you?" Bryan asked.

Frank related what had happened with Fawn when he arrived at the apartment. Rachel dropped her feet to the floor.

"That bitch. I bet that was her plan all along when she seduced Bryan. She knows we're good friends. She thought she could coerce you into doing whatever she wanted with that kind of leverage."

Bryan was chuckling. Rachel looked at him like he was insane.

Bryan gave her a withering look. "Well that just goes to show she doesn't know Frank very well doesn't it, Rach?"

Her face cleared. She nodded and joined in his amusement.

"Now that you mention it, you're absolutely right, Bry."

"Exactly what do you two find so funny?" Frank asked.

Bryan caught his breath first. "Tell me, chum. Did you come here to tell me that you were willing to take Fawn on to keep my indiscretion a secret? Or were you coming here to tell me that I needed to fess up to Rachel?"

"No way in hell was I sleeping with Fawn," Frank said.

Bryan chuckled. "And that is exactly what I would _expect_ you to say."

"Great. If we're square then I'm going back to my apartment, barring the door and hitting the sack." Frank stood and started toward the door. Bryan and Rachel followed.

"Want me to play bodyguard, Frank?" Rachel asked with a mischievous grin. "I would love an excuse to flatten Fawn."

Frank raised an eyebrow at his two friends with an amused snort. "I figured you'd want me out of your hair so you could pick up where you left off."

"Most definitely!" Bryan said with a grin.

Once back at his apartment, Frank spent a few minutes checking the entire space carefully to make sure Fawn hadn't paid him another visit. He then locked and bolted the door and hooked the chain. After turning off all the lights, he headed to the bedroom and found that Rachel had already put clean sheets on for him.

He stripped down to his boxers and lay down in bed. Only then did he pick up his cell to call Nancy.

nhnhnhnhnhnh

Nancy's cell rang and the only reason she picked it up to answer it was because it was Frank's ring tone.

"Hey, honey."

Frank's warm voice washed over her. "Hello, sweetheart."

"You sound tired," Nancy said.

"I am. And you sound distracted."

Nancy felt a pang of guilt and tore her attention from her mother's journal to focus on Frank.

"I'm sorry. I found Mom's journal in a secret compartment in her memory box and I've been totally caught up in reading it since you called earlier. I can't wait to hear what you think about what I've learned over the last day or two."

"Wow, it has to be kind of . . . emotional to find something so personal of your mother's. Exactly what have you learned over the last couple days?"

The intense curiosity evident in Frank's tone made Nancy smile.

"I don't want to get into it over the phone. You'll just have to be patient and wait until I see you."

"So basically you're just teasing me."

Nancy laughed. "I guess so."

"And the strange thing is that I think I like it. Does that mean there's something wrong with me or with you?"

"Maybe a little of both."

It was Frank's turn to laugh. "You're probably right."

Nancy sighed. Talking to him like this made her miss him even more. The desire to have Frank hold her and tell her everything was going to be alright was back and more intense then ever.

"I miss you." she said quietly.

"I wish I was there to hold you, sweetheart," he said.

"I just wish I was _with_ _you_," Nancy said. "Here or there doesn't matter as much as being together."

Frank was silent for several seconds before responding, "You're right."

Nancy chuckled at the surrender she recognized in his tone. He was finally getting the message that they didn't have to settle in Chicago.

"Get used to it, Hardy."

"And you better get used to me hanging around, Drew." The smile sounded in his voice.

"I already am, honey," she said. "I believe that's part of my problem tonight. I have become far too used to having you around to talk to and confide in and . . . lean on."

"We make quite the pair," Frank said, trying to stifle a yawn. "Don't we?"

She chuckled. "I think that's our cue. You should try and get to sleep. Maybe even sleep all night."

"That would be easier if you were laying in bed next to me."

"Is laying in bed all you have in mind, Franklin Hardy?"

"Not really."

"At least you're honest."

"Hm, honesty is one of my strong suits." Frank yawned. "I suppose I should give it up and go to sleep. I'll talk to you in the morning before you go to work?"

"You should try to sleep in, Frank. You sound so tired."

"Now who's handling whom?"

Nancy sighed. "I'll call you when I get up in the morning."

"Thank you. Good night, sweetheart."

"Good night, Frank. Sleep well."

She ended the call reluctantly and then remembered what she had been doing when he called. Having finished a quick skim of the entries, she had gone back to the beginning to read in more detail. The journal started approximately six months before her mother's death and Nancy was hoping to find a hint as to why her mother had been killed since she was now certain that Eliza Morgan Drew had not committed suicide.

The sun was streaming through the bedroom window when Nancy jerked awake the next morning. She had fallen asleep, fully clothed, reading her mother's journal. She stretched and then looked at the clock. It was already after ten in the morning. It had been awhile since she had slept this late.

Late – shit, she was late for work. That realization was accompanied by the sound of an insistent knock on her apartment door. She scrambled for the door and looked through the peephole. Riley stood in the hallway.

Nancy opened the door and gave Riley an apologetic smile. "I fell asleep reading last night and forgot to set my alarm. Then I overslept this morning –"

"Do you think I'm here to chew you out for not coming to work?" Riley's eyebrows hovered over wide eyes. "Kiddo, that is the furthest thing from my mind. I would have been over here to check up on you last night but I got shit-faced with Leo and passed out at the office until this morning. It's a damn good thing the office was within crawling distance of the bar. It's been awhile since I drank like that and I'm not as young as I used to be."

Nancy threw the door wide and turned toward the kitchen. "I'll make us some coffee."

"Nectar of the gods," Riley murmured as he followed her into the apartment and closed the door.

Riley perched on one of the stools while Nancy got the coffee maker set to brew. Soon the only sound in the apartment was that of coffee streaming into the pot.

Leaning on the counter, Nancy studied Riley. His thick gray hair was tousled and his face looked haggard. She figured she probably didn't look much better after yesterday. This morning she was feeling incredibly optimistic.

"I want to show you something, Riley."

She hurried into the bedroom and returned with the journal. She opened it to the last page and slapped it down on the counter in front of him.

"It's my mother's journal. She was in the habit of writing in it at least every Sunday. This entry was written just a couple of days before Mom died."

Nancy pointed to the final entry which read:

_The test was positive! By my estimates, I'm about six weeks along. I want to tell Carson, but I just can't - not until I make it past this week. This is when I had the miscarriage the last time. Our celebration was just a tad premature then and I don't want to put Carson through that again. Still, I have a good feeling about the pregnancy this time . . . and I can't wait to share this with him!_

_WE'RE GOING TO HAVE ANOTHER BABY!_

Riley's gaze was guarded. "So she knew she was pregnant. How can you be sure something didn't change between when she wrote this and when she died? Maybe she had the miscarriage she was so worried about."

Nancy frowned and then snapped her fingers. "The coroner's report should answer that question – have you gotten it yet?"

Riley shook his head. "I'm hoping to get it today. I'll go down to the damn Examiner's office myself if I have to."

"I'm betting she was still pregnant, Riley. I mean, this was written just two days before her death," Nancy began pacing, unable to contain her excitement. "And she never would have committed suicide knowing she was pregnant. I'm sure of it."

Riley's expression was reserved. "Alright, let's follow that line of reasoning. If your mother didn't commit suicide that means . . ."

"She was murdered."

Rubbing his hands down his face Riley let out a heavy sigh. "The only suspect they ever identified in the murder scenario was your father, Nancy. Are you sure you really want to continue with this line of inquiry?"

Nancy caught her breath and walked into the kitchen to pour the coffee and give herself time to think. Her father a murderer? She might be angry with him for not telling her the truth about her mother but she did not believe he could murder anyone – especially his beloved wife.

Frank's ring tone sounded. She dug the cell out of her pocket hastily.

Just knowing that Frank was on the other end of the line calmed her mind and allowed her to begin formulating a plan of action to find her mother's killer.

She would find her mother's killer.

NH

A/N: Many thanks for the reviews: angry penguin, Confidential Brunette, Smithy, JackieJacks, liferscove2118, Polgara218, and nancy fan. :D:D:D I really enjoy those reviews . . . have I mentioned that?


	12. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: This gets old, but you know the drill – don't own 'em, make not money from this, yada yada yada.

Happy reading!

**Chapter 11: Shocks & Sureties**

"Hi, honey."

Frank was relieved to hear Nancy's voice over the phone he had cradled between his ear and shoulder as he snagged his t-shirt off the dresser on his way to the apartment door to answer an insistent knocking. He stuck his free arm through a shirt sleeve as he spoke into the phone.

"Hey, sweetheart. I was a little worried since I hadn't heard from you."

"I woke up late."

He snorted. "So did I."

She sounded far better then she had when he talked to her yesterday – no longer sad and definitely less distracted. He opened the door and waved Bryan and Rachel in as he caught the phone while pulling his head and other arm into the shirt. In seconds he had the phone back to his ear and heard Nancy's response.

"So you actually slept all night?"

"Yes, I did."

"I'm really glad to hear that."

Frank turned and noticed that Rachel and Bryan still stood just inside the door staring at him. Rachel's eyes were round and she cast a worried glance at Bryan before stuttering something about getting started in the bathroom and bustling past him.

Holding the phone away from his mouth, Frank asked, "What's up with Rach?"

In his ear Nancy said, "I take it Rachel and Bryan are there."

Meanwhile Bryan pursed his lips as he looked after Rachel. "I could use some go juice, chum. Then perhaps we could have a chat."

"Ok," Frank responded. Into the phone, he said, "Yeah, Bry and Rachel just got here. Rachel is . . . um, anxious to get started cleaning."

On the phone Frank could hear Nancy's muffled voice talking to someone on her end. He wondered who it was as he followed Bryan into the kitchen to start some coffee. Then she spoke into the phone a moment later.

"Riley's here. I'm going to let you go, Frank. Give me a call when you're done."

"Alright sweetheart. Have a good day. I love you."

"I love you, too. 'Bye."

The usual sense of loss slid through him as the connection with Nancy was broken. He shoved the phone into the pocket of his jeans and turned to help Bryan get the coffee going. While Bryan prepared the filter and grounds, Frank filled the water reservoir. The pot was brewing within a couple of minutes.

Frank leaned on the counter and looked at Bryan questioningly.

"So what's up with Rachel? She looked kind of freaked out."

Bryan fixed Frank with a narrow gaze. "You have a real gift for understating things, Frank. I know you said Bucciano was relentless but the way you told it I thought it was more mental than physical."

"It was."

"Well your chest sure looks like it was bleeding physical, Frank."

Frank ran a hand down the front of his shirt self-consciously. He hadn't even thought about it on his way to the door.

"It looks a lot worse then it is . . . was," he said quietly.

"Well it looks bloody awful."

"I'm sorry. The doc gave me stuff to help the scarring fade but it takes time. Do you think Rachel's alright?

"Take her coffee, let her drink some and then ask _her_," Bryan said.

Five minutes later Frank was carrying a cup of coffee, heavy on the cream and sugar, into the bathroom. Rachel was on hands and knees scrubbing the floor.

"C'mon, Rach. Take a break and have a cup of coffee with me."

Rachel stood up and washed her hands, avoiding Frank's gaze. She accepted the cup with a murmured 'thank you' and walked out of the bathroom. Frank followed.

She sat at the little dining table and Frank sat across from her.

"Rachel, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to shock you like that. I don't even think about it anymore. Really, I'm ok. How about you?"

"I'm fine. Guess I was just a little . . . surprised. I mean, you really downplayed the . . . the physical stuff."

"The physical stuff is all healed now, Rach, and the scars will fade."

"What really happened with Vito Bucciano, Frank? And don't bullshit me."

He sighed. "Not satisfied with the Cliff Notes version?"

"Don't be an ass."

"There's not a whole lot to tell. He tormented me for about eight hours. First with cigarettes, then with candles, then with . . ." Frank took a deep, steadying breath. "Well, with anything handy – and there was lots of stuff handy. He did whatever he could to degrade me and get into my head."

Frank's jaw clenched as the awful things Bucciano had promised to do to Nancy and Joe replayed in his mind in the same mocking tone the hit man had used.

That had been the worst part of the entire ordeal and it was still the part he couldn't bring himself to talk about. He closed his eyes and tried to shut the voice out but it was as relentless now as it had been during those eight harrowing hours.

"Frank, are you ok?"

Rachel's voice startled him out of the waking nightmare. His eyes snapped open and he looked at her.

"The physical stuff was nothing compared to the mental games he played."

Rachel considered him through narrowed eyes for several seconds.

"So the physical stuff is healed. What about the mental stuff?"

"I'm . . . working it out."

Rachel pressed her lips into a thin line. "Oh Frank, please tell me that isn't what you say to Nancy."

He ground his teeth, unwilling to admit that that was exactly what he was telling Nancy. And his mother. And even Joe. Meanwhile, Bucciano still had a firm grip in his nightmares. He saw pity reflected in Rachel's face as she shook her head.

"You don't have to go it alone, Frank. Of all people I thought you'd be smart enough to figure that out."

Again, he remained silent. It didn't seem to him there was really a response required. And he didn't want to admit that Rachel could be right. Maybe he wasn't smart enough to figure this out on his own.

Rachel stood. "Alright, I get it. You don't want to talk about it with me. I can live with that. Maybe some deep cleaning will be good therapy for both of us. Let's get to work."

By lunch time the majority of the apartment had been thoroughly cleaned. Frank rubbed his chin and grimaced. He hadn't had a shower and after the last few hours he really needed one. Rachel had been like a drill sergeant but even she was going to have a hard time finding fault with their collective housekeeping.

Bryan emptied the last bucket of mop water down the drain and looked over at Rachel with a furtive smile. Frank squelched the impulse to burst out laughing. The truth was that he was a little afraid of Rachel on this cleaning binge himself.

"We're done now, aren't we Rach? I'm knackered," Bryan said tentatively.

Rachel stood in the center of the living room, hands on hips and feet planted shoulder-width apart, looking around with a critical eye.

"We missed the counter tops. We should pull out all of the appliances and –"

Frank interrupted. "I did that."

"What about under the kitchen sink? And the bathroom sink?"

"You cleaned under the sink in the loo, didn't you Rach?" Bryan said. "And Frank took care of the kitchen, right chum?"

Hoping he hid his surprise at the question, Frank managed to nod. He hadn't cleaned under the kitchen sink but he would. He just didn't want Rachel hovering over him while he did it.

"Uh, yeah, I cleaned under the kitchen sink."

"Besides it's noon and we're feeling a tad peckish. And Frank and Nan are going to be staying here again next week anyway. Let's call it a day and go out for a good nosh up."

Rachel relaxed her stance and Frank heard Bryan heave a relieved sigh.

"I am getting a bit hungry myself. Will you come to lunch with us, Frank?"

"I have a meeting at one and I still need to pack. I'll see you next week, anyway," Frank said.

Rachel's face lit up as she and Bryan started for the door.

"That's right. Wednesday's the big day, isn't it?"

"Yes, Wednesday afternoon." Frank still couldn't believe he was defending his thesis next week.

"Which means Wednesday night we party!" Rachel said. "I'll make all the arrangements."

Frank's eyebrows shot up. "I just figured we'd hit Froggy and have a few beers."

"You just leave it to me, Frank," Rachel said with a wink.

Frank shrugged in agreement. He knew there was likely no curbing Rachel's enthusiasm anyway.

"Just keep it simple, Rach."

She waved a dismissive hand. "Whatever. Do you and Nan want to have dinner with us Tuesday night?"

"Knowing Nan, she'll want to be at work all day, so we probably won't get in until late next Tuesday night. I am hoping to convince her to take the rest of that week off, though."

"We'll figure it out after you get here, then," Rachel said. "It'll be great having you and Nan around for a few days! I can't wait to get to know her better."

"For some reason that makes me incredibly nervous," Frank said with a smile.

Rachel turned at the door and gave Frank a rueful smile and a warm hug. "I've missed you."

"Hey now," Bryan said, eyes twinkling with mock indignation. "I think I might just be jealous."

"Oh stuff it, Bryan," Rachel said playfully. Then her expression sobered and she looked up at Frank. "You have to promise me one thing, Frank."

"Sure, Rach. What is it?"

"No more trying to work it out on your own. You have to talk to Nancy. Seriously."

Bryan took Rachel's arm and pulled her out the door. "Right. Well, on that note, we'll be seeing you chum!"

"I mean it, Frank," Rachel wagged a parting finger at him. "Talk to Nancy!"

"Yes mother Rachel," Frank said as he closed the door on his friends.

He heaved a sigh as he shot the deadbolt. He knew he had to talk to Nancy but not over the phone. It was going to have to wait until she got into town. Maybe by then he would know what to say to her.

He turned resolutely toward the kitchen. First things first – he was going to clean under the sink before Rachel found out that he had fibbed about it.

nhnhnhnhnhnh

Joe was relatively sparing with the sugar he dumped into his almost-empty coffee cup before filling it with hot coffee. Anna served a locally-roasted Peruvian that was velvety and rich and he found that he didn't need as much sugar to make it palatable as he did with the generic coffee he and Van usually bought.

It made him think that maybe it would be worth the extra money to buy a decent coffee ground. But Van was a stickler on their budget, especially since they had started saving for a home down-payment. Van had even picked out the house already. Joe sighed. He'd enjoy the good coffee while he could – Van's dream house meant far more to him than a lousy cup of coffee anyway.

He carried his coffee back to the sun room and sat down across from Arthur, who was reading the local paper. Joe, on the other hand, had a handful of yellowed newspaper clippings, his notepad and pen and a local telephone book.

Arthur looked at Joe over top of his paper with blatant curiosity. "Finding anything interesting in that mess I gave you, there? I was morbidly curious about what happened at the time. Anna threatens to take down the mounted clippings periodically but it was such an interesting piece of history. I thought it deserved to be remembered."

Joe flashed Arthur a distracted smile. "I have a list of all the folks that were quoted or mentioned in the various articles. I thought I'd start by trying to find them in the phone book. Then maybe Van and I can head to the local library and do an online search. Van's a whiz on computers."

"I have a computer with internet here if that helps at all. Let me see your list and maybe I can help with that as well."

Arthur carefully folded the newspaper and set it aside as Joe handed his notepad across the table.

"I imagine a lot of these folks are long gone," Joe said.

"Not necessarily. This is a pretty stable little community."

Arthur read the list carefully before handing it back to Joe.

"The fire chief at the time, Beauragard Ogradnicek, or Oggy as he's better known around here, still lives in town – retired not too long ago as a matter of fact. You'll find him in the phone book."

Joe flipped through the phone book to the appropriate page and found the odd name without any trouble. What a moniker to be saddled with, he thought as he jotted down the address and phone number on his notepad.

"Sara Fields, hm, seems to me her family moved away years ago. If I recall correctly she was good friends with Eliza's mother. You might ask Anna if she remembers where they went when they left South Hill."

Joe made a note and waited expectantly.

"The Morgan's next door neighbors, the Hendersons, passed on a few years ago. Their daughter, Sheila Livingston, lives in the house now with her life partner. Sheila was younger than Eliza but I'm sure she knew her. Whether she knows anything of interest or not, I don't know."

"Earl Cassidy actually purchased the Morgan's property after the fire and razed the house – it was a total loss any way – and he still lives in his place which is opposite the Henderson's. He's a dodgy old codger, that one. As for the other government officials quoted in the article I didn't know any of them. I think most of them must have been with the state because they weren't locals."

Joe looked up the phone numbers for Sheila Livingston and Earl Cassidy and then surveyed the list. "The government officials should be the easiest to track down. I'll ask Anna about Sara – if we have a starting point it will make it easier to find her. Thanks a lot, Arthur. You've really made my job much easier."

"I'm glad I could help."

A few phone calls later, Joe had meetings set up with Oggy and Sheila. Earl wasn't answering his phone and had no answering machine.

Joe looked at his host hopefully. He had been a fount of information so far.

"Arthur, do you think Earl Cassidy might be home?"

"I'm certain of it. He lives like a hermit. Has his groceries delivered, does all of his shopping online, the whole bit. He barely ventures out of his house – even has a lawn service come in to maintain his yard. Like I said, he's a dodgy one. I'd watch my step with him."

"How did he end up quoted in the article about the fire if he's such a hermit?"

Arthur snorted. "He's one of those conspiracy theorists. The fire had him all up in arms. He was out of his house all wild-eyed and spouting about government cover-ups. Martin Morgan was a low level government bureaucrat with the Department of Agriculture. Earl was just blowing smoke and everyone around here knew it but of course the papers couldn't help but quote him. Sensationalism sells – it's a sad fact."

With a frown, Joe wrote 'conspiracy theories or not?' next to Earl Cassidy's name. It was probably nothing but it was worth at least a visit with the recluse.

Joe stood and stretched. "I'm going to find Van and take a walk."

Arthur picked up his paper, shaking his head. "Mind my words, young Joseph – watch your step around Earl Cassidy. The man is a stark raving lunatic in my humble opinion."

nhnhnhnhnhnh

Nancy sat in her car staring at the home where she had grown up. Strips of green grass separated the neatly curving flower beds that her mother had created shortly after she and her father had bought the house. Every year her father had the landscaper prune the perennials, plant the same annuals and mulch the beds so that they looked basically as they had since Eliza planted them over twenty-five years ago.

Nancy was sure there were other similar habits her father had to keep Eliza Drew alive. Like how every Friday night he would light the fireplace and sit and drink a glass of sherry – according to Hannah it was something Elly had insisted on in the evening to get Carson away from his work and relaxed. Or how he would schedule a trip to the local botanical garden every year on Eliza's birthday – an outing Nancy remembered fondly from before her mother's death that continued long afterwards.

Nancy sighed and opened the car door. Riley had grudgingly agreed to talk with Leo about what she had found – on the condition that Nancy talk to her father. Given that it was Wednesday and Carson Drew was scheduled to leave for Washington DC today Nancy knew she had to go immediately. But now that she was here she was stymied. Too many years of silence on the subject of her mother lay between her father and her. It was frightening to contemplate shattering the quiet with what she had found.

She walked quickly up the front walk and in the door without stopping, afraid that if she lost momentum she would lose her nerve. The door to her father's study was immediately off the entry hall and was open. She could hear her father inside talking to someone and her steps slowed. Hannah came bustling out of the kitchen. She wore a simple gray skirt with a matching pearl-gray blouse and her white hair was swept up in a bun. A warm smile lit her face when she saw the visitor in the hallway.

"Nancy, my dear, when did you arrive? Goodness, I didn't expect to see you here on a weekday morning."

She gathered Nancy in a motherly hug and kissed her cheek.

Nancy smiled. "It's good to see you, Hannah. I just stopped by to talk to Dad before he left for DC."

"Nancy?"

She turned at the sound of her father's voice. He stood in the doorway of his study dressed as casually as he ever was, in a gray polo shirt and dark slacks with shiny black loafers on his feet. His blue eyes reflected curiosity and a certain guardedness that caught Nancy by surprise. Did he suspect the reason for her visit? She didn't see how that was possible.

"Hi, Dad. Do you have a few minutes to talk?"

Hannah seemed to sense their need for privacy and after extracting a promise that Nancy would stay for lunch, she gave her one last squeeze and retreated down the hall.

As Hannah disappeared into the kitchen Nancy's father stepped back into his study and waved her in. "My flight isn't until this afternoon, honey. Come on in and sit down."

Through the door was Nancy's favorite room in the entire house. Lined with cherry book shelves filled mostly with various law reference books, the study reflected her father perfectly – knowledge, comfort and warmth.

A large mahogany desk sat at the far end of the room and beside it was a window seat where Nancy had spent many hours reading while her father worked. The book shelves nearest the window seat were filled not with law references but with fictional books – everything from Dr. Seuss to Trixie Belden to _The Swiss Family Robinson_ cohabited the shelves with the classics like Shakespeare and Chaucer. Her father had read them all with her and talked to her about them – even debating the finer points of the classics with her as she matured. Some of her fondest memories with her father were in this room.

She bypassed the formal guest chairs in front of her father's desk and curled herself in a corner of the window seat. As was his habit when talking with her here, he rolled his desk chair closer and propped his feet at the other end of the window seat, folding his hands in his lap and considering her with a discerning gaze.

"What's bothering you, Nancy? Is it something more to do with your mother?"

Nancy propped her chin on her fist and gazed out the window at the front gardens – her mother's gardens. She turned to watch her father, hoping to read the truth in his face as she asked her first question.

"Why didn't you ever tell me that Mom's death was ruled a self-inflicted overdose?"

His jaw clenched, but his eyes held hers steadily. "It was devastating enough that she died, let alone that she took her own life, Nancy. I had hoped to spare you that knowledge, at least while you were young. I suppose I let it continue as you got older because . . . well, because it was just easier and I couldn't figure out how to tell you the truth."

"You believe Mom committed suicide."

Her father's eyes closed and the pain etched in his face nearly broke Nancy's heart.

"She had suffered from depression off and on for years, honey. It's a terrible illness and in the end I guess she just couldn't cope. It . . . happens and there's no rhyme or reason to it. I couldn't understand it myself and I certainly couldn't explain it to you."

Nancy dropped her feet to the floor and turned to face her father, elbows on her knees. "What if I told you Mom didn't kill herself?"

He rubbed his hands down his face and then leaned forward so father and daughter sat knee to knee in identical poses.

"Don't do this, Nancy. Don't delude yourself into thinking you can investigate your way into changing the past."

"I'm not deluding myself. I found Mom's journal – in her memory box. She knew she was pregnant, Dad. _She knew_."

His eyes had locked on Nancy's as he sat back in his chair. "You're certain? Why . . . why hadn't she said anything?"

"She was waiting until she was sure nothing would go wrong with the pregnancy. She wrote something about a previous miscarriage and not wanting to get your hopes up . . ."

"That is typical Eliza," her father said with a sad smile. "There had been a miscarriage – about six months before. That was the last time she had slipped into a funk. The doctor said it was the hormonal whiplash and it didn't seem to last long. Elly refused to go back on the 'happy pills' as she called them. She was certain they were what had caused the problem."

"The important detail here is that she _knew_, Dad. I cannot believe she would have killed herself knowing that she was pregnant."

Her father shook his head. "No. she wouldn't have. But if Elly didn't kill herself that means . . ."

"She was murdered, Dad. I'm certain of it. And I intend to find out who was responsible."

Pushing himself up out of his chair her father began pacing, hands buried deep in his pockets.

"Everyone loved Elly. Who would want to kill her?"

"I don't know. I've talked to one of the detectives who investigated the case. He said the suspect list was pretty short – you were the only one on it. Is there anyone else you can think of who might have wanted her dead?"

"Your mother didn't have a lot of friends but she also didn't have any enemies. She was quite content to tend the gardens and take care of you. She never even joined the local garden club. I'm sure I told the police the same thing at the time. I can't imagine why anyone would want to kill Elly."

"Well, someone did. Maybe it was somebody from her past. Someone she was trying to escape." The wording of her mother's note struck Nancy as significant.

"I told you, Nancy – she left her life in New York behind. As far as I know she didn't really keep in touch with anyone from her past in Ithaca."

"But maybe that's the point, Dad. She came home to Chicago with you after that weekend you proposed. Did she ever go back to New York?"

"Not to the Ithaca area. She did go to New York to visit the Hardys in Bayport or to visit Eloise in the city. She was quite close to both Laura and Eloise and when she would get depressed often a visit with one of them would help. But I don't believe she ever went back to Ithaca or Richford."

"I wonder if she wasn't running away from more than just a miserable life in foster care. Maybe there was something far more sinister going on. That would explain why she was going to refuse your marriage proposal – she wanted to protect you from getting involved. And it would also explain why she moved to Chicago without ever looking back."

Her father continued pacing, a thoughtful look on his face. She had watched him many times over the years tracing the same path through the room when trying to puzzle out a particularly difficult angle of a case. She could tell he was beginning to have doubts of his own about Eliza Drew's suicide.

"She didn't even go back to pick up the things she hadn't packed," he murmured almost to himself. "She had been living in a furnished apartment and said there was nothing left there that she needed or wanted. I thought it was odd at the time but she insisted that I just forget about it. She was adamant about leaving that life behind her once she was in Chicago. And of course, Mother was thrilled to have another girl about the house. She practically adopted Elly as her own as soon as I brought her home."

Her father slipped into silence though Nancy could see that he was going over facts and small details from his early courtship of Eliza. She stood. She was more certain than ever that her father had not murdered her mother. She was going to have to give him some time to ruminate over his time with Eliza in this new light.

"I want to talk to Leo again and review the local investigation more thoroughly but I think a trip to Ithaca is going to be necessary to get to the truth. If you think of anything that could help, please let me know."

Her father came to a halt in the middle of the room and turned toward her, arms crossed and a familiar worried expression on his face.

"I have grave misgivings about you investigating your mother's death, Nancy. If it wasn't suicide then someone did a very convincing job of making it look like it was. That tells me one thing."

"It was a professional job," Nancy said.

"Exactly."

Her father's gaze was tight with concern and Nancy rushed to allay it.

"You know Frank and Joe won't let me go alone, Dad. I'll be perfectly safe. And I think we both need to get to the truth behind Mom's death."

He took several seconds to think about it but finally gave a curt nod. "Very well. But I want Fenton apprised of what you three are up to. Am I understood?"

"I would point out that I'm not a child and neither are Frank and Joe, but since it is good advice I'll forego that for now," Nancy said with a tolerant smirk.

"It's a father's prerogative to worry over his daughter – adult or not. I love you, honey. Just promise me you'll be careful."

"You know Frank won't have it any other way, Dad."

Her father's handsome face softened into an affectionate smile as he closed the distance between them and folded her into a warm embrace. Nancy returned the hug but part of her held back.

She was glad she and her father had talked but she was still bothered by the fact that he had lied to her.

NH

A/N: Thanks a million for the reviews: liferscove2118, Polgara218, Confidential Brunette, Smithy (that is just creepy), JackieJacks (thanks for the conversation!), and Agent Striker.

Thanks, also, to the folks who have put my story on alert or favorite – there seems to have been a wave of them this week. Smiles all around! :)


	13. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I do not own Nancy Drew or the Hardy Boys. But I do have a lot of fun playing with them. Thanks for sharing, Simon & Schuster :)

Happy reading!

**Chapter 12: Reason & Resolve**

"Isn't it sad how all of the evidence of a family's home can be so utterly erased?" Vanessa asked. "The Morgans had a life here and one tragedy wiped out all traces of it."

Joe squeezed Vanessa's hand as they neared the center of the block around the corner from the Lavender Lady. The mostly empty lot nestled between two neat houses looked innocuous - no trace of the Morgan house remained standing. The drive and sidewalk leading into the lot from the street and the garden shed at the rear of it were the only indicators that there had ever been a home there.

"Don't forget Eliza," Joe corrected.

Van shuddered. "It's no wonder she asked to be moved to another home. I can't imagine living around the corner from where my parents died. It had to be awful."

"More awful then leaving behind everything and everyone that was familiar?" Joe asked.

His own life didn't really provide him with any frame of reference for what Eliza must have experienced as a child. Devastating was the only word that came to mind – it had to be devastating.

Movement at the small white bungalow just beyond the empty lot caught Joe's eye. When he focused on it, all that remained was a swaying curtain but he was sure he had seen a face looking out at them. Earl Cassidy was home.

"Come on, Van. Let's see if we can get Mr. Cassidy to talk to us. From what Arthur said, he may have some interesting theories about the Morgan house fire. Probably a bunch of crazy talk but I think we should be as thorough as possible."

Van's pretty face was set in a grim expression. "Let's go."

Within a minute Joe was rapping on the door of the bungalow. Though the lawn and gardens were neatly manicured, on close inspection the house was in need of repair. The paint on the door was peeling and one of the shutters on the front window was slightly askew.

They heard clinking and rattling and then the door opened a crack, catching on the chain that still locked it. A gray eye surrounded by wrinkled, gray-tinged flesh peered out at them.

"Whaddaya want?"

"Mr. Cassidy, I'm Joe Hardy, a private investigator out of New York city. This is my fiancée, Vanessa Bender. We were hoping you might have a few minutes to talk to us about your former neighbors, the Morgans."

"The Morgans? They died in a house fire over three decades ago, young man. Why would they be of interest to a private investigator out of the city, huh? Just who do you _really _work for?"

"I work for Hardy Investigators, sir. But I'm undertaking this inquiry for a friend. The Morgans were her grandparents. Eliza Morgan was her mother."

"Eliza Morgan? The little girl?"

Joe wasn't sure if it was his imagination or if the weathered old eye had actually softened at the mention of Eliza.

"Yes, sir. Eliza Morgan moved to Chicago, married and had a little girl of her own named Nancy. Nancy's a very good friend and asked us to look into her mother's past for her."

"You say you know Eliza's daughter, eh?"

"Yes, sir."

The eye narrowed suspiciously just before the door slammed shut. It opened wide a moment later but the man who opened it was hidden behind the door.

"Well, don't just stand there, get inside," Earl Cassidy snapped.

Joe and Van hastily stepped into the dim interior of the house and the door slammed shut behind them. They heard the click and clank of locks being closed and turned to find Earl Cassidy busily securing his home. When he was done, he swung around and glared at them. Stooped and wrinkled with gray eyes set close together in a pinched, sour face, Earl was not someone who would be easy to trust and Joe suspected he also did not easily trust others. He was the epitome of the lone conspiracy theorist.

Earl took a shuffling step forward and Joe instinctively moved in front of Van to protect her from his searching gaze.

"Private investigator, huh? You sure you don't work for any of those covert government agencies?"

Joe relaxed his face into what he hoped was his most innocent expression. "No, sir. But with all due respect, would I say 'yes' if I did?"

Earl smirked, his responding tone derisive. "You're way too young for that line of work, anyway."

It took some control not to rise to the bait. Joe replied in an even tone, "Really sir, Van and I just wondered what you could tell us about Amy and Martin Morgan and the house fire that killed them."

Earl retreated a step, eyes narrowed to the point that they nearly disappeared within his wrinkles.

"Why doesn't your friend just ask her mother, Eliza?"

For the second time in as many days, Joe had to deliver the news of Eliza's death.

"Eliza's dead?" The old man choked out as his face crumpled. He turned away abruptly and shuffled into the living room off the left side of the entryway.

Van nudged Joe who turned to find his fiancée's eyes bright with pity.

"Oh, Joe, he's really upset about Eliza. Let's go make sure he's ok."

Vanessa moved past him and followed the old man into the living room. Joe trailed after her, keen eyes scoping out the inside of the house.

Earl Cassidy looked ancient but he was obviously a technology junky. A bank of television screens lined the corner of the room with an office chair in front of the camera controls below the monitors. The screens displayed various views of the street and neighborhood surrounding the house, including several views of the Lavender Lady.

Earl might not get outside much but he certainly didn't miss anything going on around him. It bordered on voyeurism and some of the outer lying cameras might even be illegal – though all appeared to be mounted in public right-of-ways. Joe wondered how Earl had managed it without being seen.

On one end of the bank of monitors were four televisions, mounted one above the other. Three were turned to the various news channels and the fourth was on the congressional channel currently showing a live feed of the latest Senate debate.

A loud honking noise demanded Joe's attention and he turned to find Van bent over patting Earl on the back as he blew his nose on a red handkerchief.

"I'm sure it was a shock, Mr. Cassidy. But as you can imagine, Nancy would like to learn about her mother. She was only five when Eliza died. It seems you must have known her pretty well as a child. Anything you could tell us would help."

When Earl looked up at Vanessa, he actually seemed to be trying to smile but a moment later his defenses were raised once again.

"This daughter of Eliza's, Nancy, why isn't she here asking these questions herself?"

Joe dropped into the office chair and swiveled to face the man. "Nancy lives and works in Chicago, Illinois, sir. She can't get away right now and asked me to find out what I could so she has a starting point for her own search."

"And just how did you get involved?"

"Nancy is going to be my sister-in-law in a few weeks. Like I said - a personal favor for a close friend."

Earl looked from Joe to Vanessa and back and finally heaved a sigh. "What do you want to know?"

Van sat down in the wing-backed chair next to the one Earl sat in.

"Whatever you can share about Eliza's family would be a help. Nancy is really just trying to get to know her mother."

"And of course, anything you might know about the house fire," Joe added.

Earl sat back and looked at Vanessa. "Eliza was a very nice little girl who was kind to me, unlike the other children in the neighborhood. Instead of playing tricks on me and calling me nasty little names, she brought me chocolate chip cookies and talked to me respectfully. Despite her father, she remained friendly toward me."

"Despite her father?" Vanessa asked.

"Martin Morgan was a spy. I'm not sure who he really worked for but I never trusted the man."

'Here we go' Joe thought.

Vanessa's expression remained grave as she said, "I thought Mr. Morgan worked for the Department of Agriculture."

"That's what they want you to think. But what would take a low level Ag worker away from home for weeks at a time? Eh? You tell me."

Joe sat forward and schooled his features into a serious expression before speaking again.

"What else makes you think Mr. Morgan was more than an Agricultural Department agent?"

Earl leaned forward his gray eyes alight with enthusiasm. "Do you know what I found in that shed after the house fire?"

"No sir, why don't you tell me," Joe said.

"Martin Morgan had a wireless receiver – at the time it was beyond state of the art. His surveillance system put mine to shame. He had cameras and listening devices all around the house and the entire neighborhood. All I had to do after I bought the property was to change the feeds over here to the house and set up the monitoring system, which was a trick, let me tell you. I've added some to it over the years and kept it updated but for the most part – those feeds over there come from the system Martin Morgan set up years ago. Now tell me you don't believe he was a spy."

Joe turned and looked at the monitors in the corner. Spy was probably at the bottom of his list. Another conspiracy theorist was also a possibility but didn't seem likely.

Joe's mind went back to what Anna had said about the Morgans after they lost their son, Zachary. He thought it was highly likely that Martin Morgan had become an over-protective parent to Eliza and an unrelenting investigator when it came to looking for Zachary. It fit the surveillance and the lengthy absences from home.

Beside, Joe knew that was how he personally would react under those circumstances.

nhnhnhnhnhnh

Frank was about to leave his DC apartment to head to the Federal Building for his appointment with Liesle Lyon when he received a text from her. Something had come up and she wanted to move the appointment to 1:30 pm at her home. Though under normal circumstances it would have seemed an odd request of a potential employee, Liesle and her husband, Hank, had become friends to Nancy and him during their last case so Frank didn't think much of it.

He guessed it had something to do with Hank's recovery from the auto accident. His broken leg had healed but physical therapy wasn't going as well as hoped. He knew Hank well enough to know that the man was probably not dealing with the delay in recovery well.

Frank decided if he was headed to the northern suburbs of DC he was going to change into traveling clothes. Liesle wouldn't care if he was wearing a suit anyway.

Traffic was heavy and it took Frank a while to make his way to the outskirts of the city. He was glad Liesle had delayed their meeting half an hour or he never would have made it in time. He pulled into the drive of a nice two-story brick home and walked up to the door which opened before he could even knock.

"Frank, it's good to see you!"

Hank Rood was propped up on a pair of crutches, his left leg dangling limply and his right foot barely touching the floor. His blond hair had been cropped close to his head and he had obviously thrown all of his energy into upper body training since the accident.

Frank smiled at him. "I would have been here sooner but you two live in the boonies. What's your daily commute like?"

"It sucks," Hank said. "Come on in. Liesle isn't here yet, but I'm expecting her any time."

The house had an open floor plan and the entry led straight into the living room which was open to the kitchen and dining room beyond. A stone fireplace adorned the far wall of the living room. Liesle and Hank's home was warm and inviting.

Hank dropped into an easy chair that was obviously his favorite and motioned Frank to find a seat.

"Do you want anything to drink?" Hank asked.

"No thanks. I had lunch on the way here."

"Good, 'cause I don't wanna get back up." Hank leaned the crutches into the corner behind him. "Physical therapy kicked my ass today."

"How's it going?" Frank asked.

"Shitty. My left leg is all but useless and the right leg hurts like hell when I put weight on it. They sent me in for another round of tests earlier this week and now we're just waiting for results."

"I'm really sorry to hear that, Hank. It has to be frustrating."

"It is, but what are you gonna do. Liesle has been great – I don't know what I'd do without her. And Dan has really been trying to help us out. He's letting me log some hours from here at home. We're making do. Hopefully they figure out what the hell is going on with my legs soon."

"Do they have any ideas?"

"They suspect nerve damage, possibly spinal injuries that they missed because they were focusing on the compound fracture in my left leg. So far everything has come back clear but there has to be a problem somewhere. I just wish they'd find it and fix it."

"I hope they do, too."

"How about you, Frank? How are you recovering from your little encounter with Bucciano?"

"I'm fine. The scarring makes it look way worse than it was."

Hank's eyes were locked on Frank. "That's not what I mean, Frank, and you know it. Larry said he talked to you."

Frank groaned. "Not you, too? Is that why I'm here?"

Hank smirked. "Hell no. You're here because Liesle forgot about our appointment with the realtor this afternoon. If you had been anyone else she would have just cancelled but she knew you were only in town for the day and figured you wouldn't mind meeting her here."

"Why are you meeting with a realtor?" Frank asked.

Hank looked around the house regretfully. "We could barely afford this place when we were both working. Even with partial disability, there's no way we can make the payments and still eat. So we're downsizing. This house is made more for a family anyway. We found a nice duplex nearby that fits our budget better."

Frank stared at Hank in shock. "And you're asking me how I am?"

Hank shrugged. "Liesle and I have been through a lot together. Hell, it took us a decade to get stationed in the same town so we could get married. We're fine. How about you?"

"My problems seem kind of stupid compared to what you and Liesle are facing right now."

"Come on, Frank. You've been having nightmares. What's bothering you? You aren't gonna let Bucciano get the better of you, are you?"

"Now you sound like Joe." Frank took a deep breath and considered Hank for several seconds before venturing a question. "You mind if I ask you something personal, Hank?"

"Go right ahead."

"Do you and Liesle plan on having kids?"

Hank shook his head. "Naw. Liesle and I agreed to forego children. We were both in our late 20's when we met and by the time we finally got married I was just too damn old to start a family, even if I wanted to. What about you and Nancy?"

Frank shrugged. "We both want kids. But I wonder sometimes if it's such a good idea . . ."

"Because of assholes like Bucciano?"

Frank's eyes snapped to Hank's face and he nodded slowly. "Yes. Have you ever wondered what you'd do if one of these thugs you've put away came after Liesle?"

Hank frowned. "I see where you're going with this, Frank, but I think you know the answer. There's a fine line between being the good guy and being a vigilante. It's not a line you want to cross for any reason. And I think no matter what the situation is, you would make the right decision."

"I'm not sure I want to test that theory."

Hank leaned forward. "What's this really about, Frank?"

Frank stood and started pacing. "I guess I'm having doubts – about a lot of things. Nancy and I are getting married and I just wonder if it's fair to endanger her life with my profession. And is it right to have children if I'm just going to put them in danger because of what I do? I mean, maybe having a wife and children is irresponsible if this is the life I'm going to choose."

Hank started chuckling and held up a hand. "Ok, hang on a second. First off, Nancy shares your profession –"

"I know, that makes the prospect of children that much more . . . frightening." Frank dropped back into his chair.

"I think you're getting a little ahead of yourself, Frank. You've both chosen this life and you are both very capable of taking care of yourselves and each other. I really don't think you have anything to worry about."

"But the kids don't have a choice –"

"That's an issue that you and Nan are going to have to come to grips with," Hank said. "But tell me something, Frank – you grew up with a father in law enforcement. Do you regret it? Do you wish your parents had decided not to have children?"

"Of course not. But that doesn't mean it was all sunshine and roses. Joe and I had some pretty close scrapes growing up."

"Because of your father's enemies or because you made your own?"

Frank shrugged. "I guess Joe and I mostly made our own."

"So maybe you had some choice in the matter after all even though you were kids? Listen, you need to sit down with Nancy and talk this out but you can't let some vague fear of what could happen in the future affect how you choose to live your life."

He considered Hank seriously for several seconds. He made a good point but it didn't change the fact that those vague fears could become horrible realities.

Hank sat back and grinned at him. "Sounds to me like you just have a major case of cold feet."

"Cold feet about Nan – never," Frank said certainly.

"Cold feet about the job. Give yourself some time to get past what happened with Bucciano, Frank. You'll get over it. You were born to be an investigator and so was Nancy. As for your kids . . ." Hank chuckled. "Well, something tells me they're going to be naturals just like their folks."

Frank let Hank's obvious amusement draw him out of his dark thoughts. He shook his head and laughed.

"Do you charge by the hour, Hank?"

"Hm, maybe it could be a new career for me, huh?" Hank said with a tilt of the head. "Don't need your legs to give advice!"

They were both laughing when the front door burst open and Liesle came hurrying in.

She gave them a frazzled look. "What are you two cackling about?"

Hank caught his breath. "I got myself a new career, baby!"

"Thank goodness," Liesle said. "I was beginning to think I was going to have to kick your ass to get it in gear."

Hank grabbed his crutches and hauled himself up to swing over to her. He gave her a peck on the lips and a cheeky smile.

"I love you too, baby. Got stuff in the car that needs to come in?"

Liesle raised an eyebrow at him. "Why? Are you going to help me?"

"Hell no. But I figured Hardy was young and strong. You could put him to work."

Frank stood. "Sure I can help."

He followed Liesle out to the car and despite Hank's protestations to the contrary, he came too. Between the three of them they had the car unloaded in one trip.

As they headed back into the house, Liesle looked at Frank. "I'm sorry I'm so late. The realtor's coming at two fifteen, so we're going to have to make this quick. Or you can stick around and we can meet afterward. I have the offer for you to review again. It hasn't changed much."

Frank deposited his load on the kitchen counter. "It's alright, Liesle. I think I'll just take it with me. I promised Mom I'd be back in Bayport in time for dinner. I really do appreciate another chance."

Liesle sighed. "The truth is that when you refused, the position was put on hold. If you don't take it I may not get to fill it. So I'm hoping you can help me out here, Frank. I could really use another agent at this point."

"I'm considering it, Liesle. I really am. But I need to talk to Nan. We've got quite a few decisions to make over the next few weeks."

Liesle patted his arm. "Well, I'm glad you're at least thinking about it. The final decision is obviously up to you."

"Thanks, Liesle. You and Hank have to let us know how everything is going. We're thinking of you and hoping for the best."

She walked him to the door. Hank waved from his chair. "Take care of yourself, Frank. Tell Nancy we said hello."

"I will." Frank leaned down and accepted a kiss on the cheek from Liesle. "Keep in touch."

"We will."

Frank pulled out of the drive as the realtor pulled in. He felt like his own problems were minuscule compared to what Liesle and Hank were facing. It was encouraging to see them facing it together with a positive attitude. And it made him wonder why in the world he had been so intent on shutting Nancy out.

The next two days were going to feel like an eternity. But when Friday finally got here, he and Nan were going to sit down and have a long talk.

nhnhnhnhnhnh

Nancy lunched with her father and Hannah and then headed into the office. Sitting in a conference room at ADA she was working with Matt to finalize the report on the security project. Monday seemed like a long time ago, but Matt had been kind enough to take her notes from the break in and outline and type up a draft report. Now all she had to do was edit it.

She looked up as Riley strode into the room.

"I thought you were going to talk to your father, Drew. That was our deal, remember?"

"I did," Nancy said. "Did you talk to Leo?"

Riley dropped the coroner's report in front of her. "Your mother was pregnant at the time of her death. From the report, it sounds like the fetus was healthy. Looks like you were right."

"And what did Leo have to say?"

"He said he would review the copy of the journal I gave him and consider what it means. He wanted me to warn you that things could get ugly if the police reopen the case based on this new evidence."

Nancy stood. "Why?"

"Because like I said, your father is the only suspect they ever came up with."

"I cannot believe my father would have killed my mother."

"And I tend to trust your instincts but the police are going to follow the leads they had in the case at the time and your father was it. Leo suggested you might want to get a head start and look into it unofficially."

"Then that's exactly what I intend to do. I want to take some time off, Riley. I'm going to head to Ithaca and figure out what the hell happened to my mother. I don't know how long it will take . . ."

"Time is not the issue here. You _cannot_ go alone." Riley crossed his arms and glared at her.

She waved a dismissive hand. "Of course not. I need to get in touch with Joe – he was going to check into Mom's childhood for me. And I need to call Frank to let him know about the change in plans. I imagine they'll both be meeting me in Ithaca. Besides, Dad made me promise I would let Fenton know what I'm up to. If I had to guess, Dad's already talked to him."

"That makes me feel better," Riley said. "How's the report coming?"

"Matt did a great job. I'm just doing one last read through now."

"And I'll have the final report on your desk by tomorrow morning," Matt said.

"That should be fine." Riley nodded at Matt and then pursed his lips as he turned back to Nancy. "I wish I could help you with this one, kiddo, but I think your instincts are right on. The answer to whatever happened to your mother lies in New York. The Hardys are going to be far more help to you there than I can be."

"Thanks, Riley. I'll keep in touch and let you know what I learn."

"You damn well better."

NH

A/N: Big smiles for all my reviewers: Confidential Brunette :D Agent Striker :D Smithy (He slept with her…ewww, really?) :D Sophie (thanks!) :D Polgara218 :D JackieJacks :D:D Thanks so much for the reviews – they mean a lot to an unpaid author :)


	14. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: I do not own Nancy Drew or the Hardy Boys. But I do have fun messing with them.

Happy reading!

**Chapter 13: Flirts & Flights**

Joe pulled in the parking lot of Mama's Kitchen, switched off the car and looked over at Vanessa apologetically.

"Well, hopefully the afternoon won't be a total loss."

Vanessa reached over and patted his arm. "What are you talking about? We learned Sara Fields is living in our back yard. We can look her up as soon as we get back to Bayport."

"Yeah, but the other leads were all dead ends and we didn't get anywhere at Children's Services."

"Nancy may have better luck there. But I have a good feeling about this place. Besides, I'm starving."

Located in Richford about twenty miles southeast of Ithaca, the diner had a 1950's feel and inside the entire place was decked out in honor of the Big Red – sure to pull in a decent student crowd during the regular school year. However, it was now summer term and the crowd was pretty thin. Joe and Vanessa doubled the number of patrons in the place with their arrival.

Joe looked across the red linoleum-topped table at Van. "So, what do you want for lunch, babe?"

"I'm not sure, yet. Did you see what the special was?"

Joe turned to look up at the chalk board over the counter. "Looks like lasagna today."

A pretty, petite waitress with long black hair and olive-toned skin arrived as Joe was reading the special. "Oh, trust me, you want the lasagna. It's the bomb."

Joe returned her warm smile readily. "If you think so then that's what I'm getting. What do you think, Van?"

"I'm still looking," Vanessa said absently.

The waitress turned her attention to Joe who had set his menu aside with his decision made.

"Hello there. My name is Kiki and I'm gonna be taking care of you today. Can I get you something to drink?"

"I'll take a coke and Van'll have iced tea. Thanks, Kiki," Joe said, smiling

Kiki flashed him a friendly grin as she turned away. "Great! I'll be right back for your order."

As promised, Kiki returned within minutes with the ordered drinks. Vanessa placed her food order and as Kiki finished writing it down, Joe gave her a wide smile.

"So, Kiki, how long have you worked here?"

"I just started here. Seems like a pretty nice place to work so far, though I heard the Cornell crowd can get kinda handsy, especially after games. Guess I'll learn how to deal with it. Maybe I'll even meet myself a nice young doctor or lawyer," Kiki said as she leaned down and placed a hand on Joe's arm. "You wouldn't happen to be a doctor or lawyer, would you, sweetie?"

"Uh, no," Joe said.

"Ah well, that's alright," she said patting Joe's arm. He looked at her in confusion as she turned away. "I'm just gonna go put your orders in. Be back in a flash."

Vanessa raised an eyebrow as Kiki sashayed back toward the kitchen. "Eliza met a lawyer here. Funny, huh?"

Joe shrugged, his eyes following Kiki back to the window between the kitchen and the dining room. A tall young man, perhaps a little older than them, was looking out at them as Kiki relayed their order. Dark eyes glimmered under unruly dark hair. Just as Joe was wondering if he was allowed to work in the kitchen with that hair blowing all over the place, he slapped a baseball cap on his head and turned away from the window.

The cook seemed to make it a point to stop by the window and peer out at them periodically. Kiki arrived back at the table no more than ten minutes after taking their order and set salads in front of them. Joe stopped her with a hand on her arm.

"Who is that working back in the kitchen?"

Kiki seemed more than willing to share information. "Oh, that's Rodrigo – he's the owner's son. The regular cook called off sick."

"Really? Who owns this place?" Joe asked.

"Mr. Padovano. Um, Callisto Padovano. Rod is going to be taking over soon, though. He says his dad is ready to retire and hand over the reins."

"Wow, so _Rodrigo_ is going to be the big cheese then, huh?"

Kiki leaned into Joe and confided, "He doesn't like to be called Rodrigo – only his dad calls him that."

"I'll keep that in mind," Joe whispered.

Kiki gave Joe a solemn nod. "I imagine the first thing he'll want to do is hire somebody else to work in the kitchen as backup. He absolutely hates that job."

"He isn't gonna spit in our food, is he?" Joe asked, his lips quirking up in a grin.

Kiki giggled. "Oh no, I'm certain he wouldn't do that. 'Sides, he thinks your friend here is kind of cute."

"My friend?" Joe looked across the table at Vanessa.

Vanessa chuckled. "You mean his _sister_."

Joe smiled gratefully at Van, glad she had caught the implication of Kiki's statement. The smile faded as the thought of Rod hitting on her began to gnaw at him. But, he told himself, it _was_ a quick way to information.

"Oh," Kiki's smile brightened. "Let me go check on your lunch."

As Kiki walked away Joe turned to Vanessa and hissed under his breath, "Good catch, babe – just watch your step with Slick back there. I do wonder what made her think we were just friends . . ."

"Probably the fact that you've been flirting with her ever since you walked in the door. You're just lucky I know it's harmless, Joe. As for Slick, I know how to handle guys like that."

Vanessa gave Joe a pointed look that was lost on him. _He_ was lucky _she_ knew it was harmless? She was the one who was going to be flirting – with Rod the owner's son. The more he thought about it the more he didn't like it. As for himself, well, he was going to set the record straight.

"For your information I wasn't flirting with Kiki. I was just being friendly and trying to get her talking."

"You don't even realize you're doing it, do you?"

"I _wasn't flirting_," Joe insisted

Van reached across the table and patted his hand. "Then stop flashing that big smile and batting those baby blues, because any warm blooded woman within range is going to think you're flirting, sweetheart. And they're going to be disappointed when they find out you aren't because you're so darn cute."

Joe grinned at her. "You think I'm cute?"

Vanessa sighed. "Endlessly and it's a darn good thing, too."

Joe's cell phone began to chirp and he flipped it open with a wide smile. "Hey, almost-sister-in-law."

nhnhnhnhnhnh

The sound of Joe's mildly teasing voice made Nancy smile, as did the sentiment. The reminder of the rapidly approaching nuptials brought a wave of excitement and nerves.

"Hey almost-little-bro," she said with a laugh.

"Ha, only Frank gets to call me that. I am bigger than you in every sense of the word."

"Except age."

"Whoa, you only have like six months on me, Drew."

"Six months is six months," Nancy said. "What are you up to?"

"Eating at Mama's Kitchen."

Nancy raised her eyebrows. "You're in Richford? When did you get there?"

"Actually, Van and I drove in to Ithaca last night. We are hard at work on your little assignment."

Nancy bit her lip. "What did you tell your dad?"

"I told him Van wanted to attend a bridal show here."

"Oh. Well . . . he may know better by now."

"Huh?"

"Well, a lot has happened since I talked to you yesterday. I talked to my dad and –"

"Ah geez, Nan, what did you go and do that for? If he talks to my dad, I'm busted," Joe whined. "What happened?"

"It's kind of a long story. But the punch line is that I suspect my mom was murdered. I told my dad I was going to investigate it and he made me promise I'd talk to your dad about what I was up to."

"Have you talked to Dad yet?" Joe asked.

Nancy grimaced. "I haven't but my dad is very unlikely to take any chances . . ."

". . . and has probably already called my father. I'm definitely busted."

"Most likely," Nancy agreed. "I'm sorry, Joe."

"Ah, well – won't be the first time. So, are you going to give me the scoop? What did you learn? Wait a minute." Joe's voice dropped to a whisper. "Did you say your mom was murdered?"

"Yes, murdered and before you ask, I have no idea why – that's why I'm coming to join you in Ithaca. I'll give you the whole story if you pick me up at the Tompkins Regional Airport at six."

"We should be able to make it. Have you talked to Frank yet?"

"I've tried to call him several times but he's not picking up."

"If I know Frank, when he finds out you're flying into Ithaca he'll be chomping at the bit to get up here and join you."

On Joe's end of the phone Nancy could hear Vanessa saying, "We can get them a room at the Lavender Lady. Anna and Arthur would be so happy to meet Nancy."

"Who are Anna and Arthur?" Nancy asked.

"Neighbors of your grandparents and your mom's first foster parents."

Nancy's breath caught. This trip promised to be an introduction to her mother. Believing that her mother had been murdered, Nancy wondered whether she was going to like what she learned. Still she was excited to meet someone who had known Eliza Morgan.

"Are you there, Nan?"

"Yes, I'm here."

"Ok, well, we'll see you at the airport around six. Do you want me to try and reach Frank?"

"If you want. I think he'll probably call. I've left him a couple messages."

"I probably won't bother – he'll call you first anyway," Joe said with a snort. "We'll see you soon, Nan."

"G'bye."

Nancy closed the phone and shoved it back in her pocket before looking up at Matt and Riley.

"I'm going to need a ride to the airport. Would one of you mind picking me up at my apartment in about an hour?"

"I can do it, Nan," Matt said amiably.

"Thanks, Matt!"

Nancy started gathering her things together. Her phone buzzed so she picked it up and she looked at the display. Another missed call, probably from Ned. She grimaced and shoved it in her pocket.

"Where is Joe?" Riley asked.

"He and Vanessa are up in the Ithaca area already. They're eating a late lunch at the diner where my mother used to work," Nancy said as they moved toward her office where she dropped her load and grabbed her briefcase.

Riley blocked the exit from her office, hands on hips. "Before you leave I want you to promise me you'll be careful."

"I'm always careful." Nancy smiled brightly at him.

"No, you aren't. That's what has me worried."

Nancy crossed her arms. "I can take care of myself, Riley. Just let it go."

"After the trouble you and those Hardy brothers found the last couple times you got together I'm unwilling to let anything go."

"My mother has been dead twenty years, Riley. Cases don't get much colder than that."

"But if your mother was murdered to cover something up, whoever did it isn't going to hesitate to kill again. I don't care if it has been twenty years – you had better watch your step!"

Nancy sighed. "I will. I promise."

Riley held out a black case. "Take this. I don't know if you'll need anything in there but I hate to have you out there unprepared."

"What's in it?" Nancy asked.

"Listening devices, ear buds, a couple mini surveillance cameras, receivers – whatever you might need to do your investigating from a _safe distance_."

Nancy took the case. "Thanks, Riley."

"And you better keep me apprised of what's going on. Capisce?"

"I understand, Riley. Sheesh, are you my boss or my keeper?"

"Hm. Both?"

Nancy made a face at him. "Lucky me."

Riley gave her a smug smile as he stepped aside to let her exit.

"Just remember that!"

"You never let me forget."

Nancy pulled her phone out as she slid by Riley. She needed to call George and let her know about the change of plans. George would be flying to Bayport alone on Friday.

nhnhnhnhnhnh

Frank opened the car door, stood and stretched. It was a relief to be back in Bayport. He pulled his cell out and looked at the display as he opened the back door of the car. Seven missed calls? Scrolling through the history he found he had missed a call from his father, two from his brother and four from Nancy.

He pressed Nancy's speed dial number as he shouldered his bags and headed up the walk toward his parents' front door. The door opened when he set his foot on the first step.

"You haven't been answering your phone," his father said.

Frank held the phone away from his mouth. "I forgot to take it off mute after my meeting. Sorry."

His father glanced at his watch. "You aren't going to reach Nancy right now."

Frank slowly closed his phone as his heart leapt into his throat. "Is she alright?"

"She's fine, but right now she's probably somewhere over Ohio or Pennsylvania on her way to join your brother in Ithaca."

Shoving his phone into his pocket Frank followed his father into the house. "Why is she going to Ithaca? Why is Joe _in_ Ithaca?"

He dropped his backpack on the couch in his dad's study and sat down across the desk from him. His father's face was creased with worry and Frank was surprised when his mother stalked into the room, too.

"Alright Fenton, Frank's here. Now tell me . . . us - what's going on?"

"I want to know what's up in Ithaca," Frank said.

His mother looked at him curiously. "There's a bridal show in Ithaca."

Frank caught the angry look that crossed his father's face.

"There is no bridal show, Laura. Joe and Vanessa went up there to learn about Eliza's past – at Nancy's request."

"What in the world for?" Laura asked.

"Dad, what is going on? You said Nancy's on her way to join them. There has to be more to it than just learning about her mother's past."

"There is," he sat back and smoothed his fingers over his forehead. "Carson called awhile ago. Nancy has found evidence that suggests Eliza did _not_ commit suicide."

Frank snapped his fingers. "Her journal."

"What?" his father asked.

"Nancy found her mother's journal."

"I take it she talked to you about it?"

"She told me she found it. And that she was interested to see what I thought about what she had learned recently. She didn't want to discuss it over the phone, though."

"Well, the journal definitely points to the possibility that the overdose that killed Eliza was not self-administered. Unfortunately, the only suspect they ever identified in Chicago was Carson. That is leading Nancy to believe that the answer may lie in her mother's home town."

"Which is why she's going to Ithaca," Frank said.

His father leaned forward. "Frank, I want you there, too. Jack is getting the plane ready. If you get moving, you may even make it there about the same time as Nancy. I want you and your brother sticking to her like glue. She looks so much like her mother. If what she suspects is true and she starts asking around about Elly . . ."

"Whoever killed her mother could go after Nancy." Frank stood. "I'll head to the airport right now."

"I packed your bag. It's by the front door," his mother said. "Fenton, do you really think it could be true?"

"Carson certainly seemed to be convinced."

His mother wrapped her arms around herself, her face pinched with concern. "I can't help thinking that both Carson and Nancy may be grasping at straws."

"Part of me almost hopes they are, Laura. Because if not the implications are . . . worrisome."

Frank gave his father a grim smile. "Now I know where I inherited my gift for understatement."

"Call when you get to Ithaca, Frank."

"I will, Dad."

"And tell your brother that I'll deal with him when you all get home safely."

NH

A/N: To my reviewers: Smithy (well, Fawn's out of Frank's hair . . . for now ;), liferscove2118, Confidential Brunette, JackieJacks, Agent Striker, and nancy fan - - - you all are the BEST!

Also, thanks to those who put my story on alert or favorite – at least I know you're reading!

Have a great weekend!


	15. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: I don't own Nancy Drew or the Hardy Boys (I know, shocker, huh?). I do own any OCs you might notice (like that matters).

I'm posting a tad early since I'll be working long hours the next couple days. I didn't want to leave you hanging!

Happy Reading!

**Chapter 14: Reunions & Renditions**

Nancy looked out the airplane window at the approaching lights of Ithaca. She closed her mother's journal and put it into her briefcase along with the coroner's report and the case file copy that Leo had given her. The fasten seat belts sign blinked on as she was zipping the case shut.

In less than twenty minutes she was disembarking the plane. As she exited the gangway into the terminal she caught sight of Joe and Vanessa waving to her from the waiting crowd. She was moving toward them when she felt a pair of arms circle her from behind.

"Hey there, sweetheart."

She spun around and threw her arms around Frank's neck. His arms tightened around her waist and their lips met in a drawn out kiss.

As he loosened his grip, she pulled back and smiled up at him. "Mmm, I was hoping you might show up here."

"I headed this direction as soon as I heard my girl was going to be here." Frank's smile caused Nancy's heart to skip a beat.

"Alright, break it up or I'll have to run you two in for PDA," Joe said with a grin.

"Dad's gonna run _you_ in little brother – he's not real happy with you at the moment." Frank cast a critical look at Joe.

Nancy grimaced. "Oh no. Was your father furious? I'm afraid that's my fault. I asked Joe not to tell him what he was doing."

"Yeah and then you go and talk to _your_ father and blow the whole thing," Joe said, pouting.

"Riley didn't really give me a whole lot of choice," Nancy said apologetically. "It was kind of good to clear the air with Dad, anyway. I was so angry at him when I first found out about Mom . . . well, I guess I still am a little angry with him . . ."

Frank squeezed her shoulders. "Your father had good intentions, Nan. I'm glad that you talked to him. Right little brother?"

Vanessa smacked Joe on the arm when he didn't respond. "Of course you're right, Frank. Besides, Nancy didn't tell you to lie to your father, Joe."

"_We_ lied to my father," Joe corrected.

Vanessa scowled at him. "Fine. And now _we_ are busted. But it was hardly Nancy's fault."

Frank chuckled as he steered Nancy toward the baggage claim.

"At the moment _we_ have bigger problems, anyway. Why don't you catch us up on what you've found, Nan."

Nancy began taking them through the last couple days while retrieving her suitcase. By the time she was done they were climbing into the car.

Frank looked at his brother. "You've been on the ground here, Joe. Where do you suggest we start?"

"Well, since we had to pick you two up, I rescheduled the meeting with Sheila Livingston to tomorrow afternoon. She lived with her parents next door to the Morgans and recently moved back. I think we'll be in time for dinner at the Lavender Lady, where we'll be meeting with Oggy, who was the fire chief at the time of the fire."

"Did you learn anything at Mama's Kitchen today?" Nancy asked.

Vanessa turned in the passenger seat so she could look back at Frank and Nancy. "We haven't learned much, yet. But I'm meeting Rodrigo Padovano there for breakfast in the morning."

"Who's that?" Frank asked.

"He's the owner's son," Joe said, his voice tight.

"And Van is meeting with him, why?" Nancy asked.

"Because he thinks I'm cute." Vanessa winked at Nancy. "Joe was too busy flirting with Kiki to notice that I was being scoped out."

"I was _not_ flirting with Kiki."

"Keep telling yourself that, honey!" Vanessa said with a teasing smile.

"He is so adorably oblivious," Nancy said with a shake of her head.

"Isn't he, though? Oh, we did meet a neighbor of your grandparents earlier today, Nan," Van said. "A sweet old man named Earl Cassidy."

"Sweet – right. That guy is a total nut job," Joe snorted.

Van grimaced. "Well, he was a little strange. He has rather far-out ideas about Martin being some kind of spy."

"Martin Morgan was no spy." Joe glanced in the rear view mirror. "Nan, did you know that your mother had a younger brother named Zachary?"

Nancy leaned forward. "No. What happened to him?"

Van's face reflected regret. "He was kidnapped from the Morgan's car when he was just a few months old. Anna showed me some articles about the kidnapping. It happened in the middle of the day – Amy Morgan had ducked into the house to grab something she had forgotten and Zachary was taken out of the car – car seat and all. They were never able to find him."

"So somewhere out there I have an uncle," Nancy murmured.

"I don't think Martin ever gave up the search. And I know he never let Eliza out of his sight," Joe said. He related the basics of what Earl Cassidy had told them about Martin's surveillance system.

Frank said, "I think you're right, Joe. Martin must have installed the surveillance to keep an eye on Eliza."

Vanessa nodded earnestly. "I'm sure that's what he was up to. Anna even said that when Martin was out of town Eliza wasn't allowed out of the house. It was only when he was home to keep an eye on the surveillance cameras that she was out and about. It all fits."

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Nancy had fallen silent and Frank looked down at her in concern. Her expression was thoughtful as she looked out the window. He squeezed her hand.

"You ok, sweetheart?" He asked quietly.

Nancy shrugged. "I'll be fine. It's just a lot to absorb. I'm so glad you're here, Frank. I don't think I could have faced much more of this alone."

Wrapping an arm around her, he pulled her close and kissed her forehead. "It'll be alright, Nan. If someone killed your mother –"

Nancy's head snapped up and she interrupted him, "Someone did kill my mother, Frank. I'm certain of it."

He smiled at the familiar, defiant tilt to her head and the self-assurance shining in her eyes. He nodded. "And we will do everything we can to find out who is responsible."

Her lips compressed into a thin line. "That's easier said than done – you know that. Twenty years is a long time."

"It's not our first cold case," Frank said confidently. "We'll get to the bottom of this, Nan – together."

A slight smile curved her lips. "You never let me down."

"Hey, what about me?" Joe groused from the front seat.

Nancy laughed, "You too, Joe."

"We're here!" Vanessa said.

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Joe pulled into the drive of the Lavender Lady and switched off the car. He and Van were following Frank and Nan up the path to the front door when it flew open and Anna and Arthur stepped out onto the porch to greet the new arrivals.

Frank was barely a step behind Nancy as she walked up to the house. His big brother hadn't let her out of reach since she had disembarked from the plane. It was kind of nice to have Frank's over-protectiveness focused on someone else for a change.

As soon as Nancy stepped from the dim twilight into the bright light streaming from the front porch Anna's breath caught and her hand flew to her mouth. She rushed down the steps to greet Nancy as if greeting a long lost child.

"Oh, you must be Eliza's daughter, Nancy. I'm Anna and this is my husband, Arthur." She grasped Nancy's offered hand in both of her own. "Oh my dear, you look so much like your mother."

She pulled Nancy into an affectionate embrace and Nancy smiled in response. "It's very nice to meet you, Anna."

Arthur had followed Anna down the steps more slowly and reached over the two women to shake Frank's hand. "And you must be Joseph's brother, Franklin. It's a pleasure to meet you, my boy."

"The pleasure's mine, sir," Frank said.

Anna wrapped an arm around Nancy's waist and guided her up the steps into the house, motioning to the others. "You all must come in and I'll brew you some Earl Gray tea. I have pot roast in the oven and Oggy should be here soon for dinner. Come in, come in!"

Arthur looked after his wife with a tolerant smile. "You mustn't mind Anna. She has been sitting on pins and needles ever since you called to tell us Nancy and Frank were arriving this evening. She is so thrilled to meet Eliza's daughter, I'm afraid she's forgotten her manners."

By the time they had made their way into the house, Nancy had disappeared into the kitchen with Anna. Arthur relieved Frank of his and Nancy's bags and took them upstairs. Van followed Arthur stating that she needed to freshen up before dinner.

Joe followed Frank into the living room, watching as he glanced around anxiously. Joe put a hand on his brother's shoulder.

"Nan's fine, big brother – nothing is going to happen to her here. You need to relax. Come on over here and take a look at Arthur's photograph collection with me."

Frank followed, but worry still lined his face. "We have no idea what we're getting into here, Joe. I'm really concerned, especially about Nan."

"I can tell," Joe said. "But while we may not know exactly what we're getting into, we do know what we're doing. Besides, it wouldn't be the first time we kicked over a hornets' nest."

Frank shoved his hands into his jeans pockets and gazed at the photographs but Joe could tell he wasn't really seeing them.

"I've seen enough hornets' nests in the last couple months to last me for awhile. We're supposed to be getting ready for our wedding, not chasing down twenty-year-old cold cases."

Joe looked at his brother in surprise. "I heard you promise Nan in the car that we'd get to the bottom of this together. What is up with you?"

"Nothing is up with me. I'm here, aren't I? Doesn't mean I have to be happy about it." Frank dropped into a nearby chair and ran his hands back through his hair. "I'm just tired - tired and worried."

Joe sat down and looked at him. Frank's dark hair was in total disarray, his clothes were rumpled from the flight in their little plane and his face was drawn and haggard.

"What is really bothering you, bro?" Joe asked earnestly. "You look like hell. You really need to talk this whole thing out or you're gonna worry yourself into an early grave."

"Talk, everybody wants me to freaking talk," Frank muttered as he sat back and looked at Joe with an uncharacteristic smirk. "What's bothering me? Mayhem, murder – you know the usual. Oddly enough, it's all centered around _my_ fiancée – the woman I've fallen insanely in love with – the one who attracts trouble everywhere she goes."

"I'm not _that_ bad," Nancy said as she walked toward the dining room carrying a tray laden with china and flatware.

Joe chuckled and clapped his brother on the shoulder. "Yeah, bro, she's not that bad."

"Well, at least she's not nearly as bad as you are, little brother," Frank said with a slight smile.

"Come on you two. Help me set the table," Nancy said.

Her tone was light-hearted but Joe recognized the worry in her tight blue eyes when she looked at his brother. He sighed.

They were two of a kind.

nhnhnhnhnhnh

Beauragard 'Oggy' Ogradnicek was a slip of a man with a surprisingly deep bass voice. Barely five foot four and perhaps one hundred twenty pounds soaking wet, Oggy held himself with the confidence of a man used to being in charge. Wispy white hair sprung from his head like a haze and amber-colored eyes twinkled with a good-natured humor.

They were enjoying after-dinner cocktails in the living room. Oggy was regaling them with another story – this time of the four-alarm fire at City Hall in 1948, which Arthur had memorialized with a stunning photo collection that hung near the Morgan house fire collage. Vanessa kept glancing over at Frank and Nancy. The couple stood close together near the wall of photos, gazing at the pictures as they listened to Oggy tell of his harrowing rescue of the robust mayor at the time.

"That man had to have weighed twice as much as my partner and me put together. To this day I can't figure out how we managed to get him down three flights of stairs and out of the building before it collapsed. Adrenalin can make you do amazing things."

As his narrative wound down, Vanessa cleared her throat. "You've led such an interesting life, Mr. Ogradnicek –"

"Please, my dear, call me Oggy."

"Oggy, I don't know if Anna and Arthur told you, but Nancy is granddaughter to Martin and Amy Morgan. And we were really hoping you could tell us what you knew of the fire that took their lives."

Oggy moved nearer the related photo collage as he responded. "Ah, the Morgan house fire. I remember it like it was yesterday. The fire started with an electrical short in the office just off the master bedroom. The Morgans were overcome by smoke and perhaps carbon monoxide where they lay in their bed. I don't think they ever even realized what happened."

Nancy turned to Oggy. "Did the house burn to the ground?"

"Not to the ground but the damage was substantial. We were able to stop it from spreading to the front of the house but the rear part of the building was badly compromised structurally."

"The fire marshal's office performed an investigation, didn't they, sir?" Frank asked.

"Yes. The Fire Marshall at the time, Larry Stephenson, was actually the one who showed me the point of origin and explained what he believed had happened. It was a very unfortunate accident."

"There was no possibility that the fire was set intentionally?" Nancy asked.

Oggy's amber eyes locked on Nancy and he shook his head. "Of course not, my dear. It was simply a case of too much equipment being plugged into a single outlet. That was what led to the electrical short. The scorch mark was still evident on what was left of the plaster wall above the outlet. A far too common cause of house fires at the time, actually. It was an older home and the old-fashioned knob and tube wiring just couldn't handle the electrical load of all those new-fangled devices that Martin was so fond of. I am truly sorry."

Nancy gave him a thin smile and lapsed into silence, but Frank leaned forward.

"What type of electrical devices was Martin fond of, sir?"

Oggy pursed his lips. "Battery chargers and televisions made up the bulk of the equipment in there. What one man needed with half a dozen televisions is beyond me. He also had one of the first personal computers in the neighborhood and several VCRs. To be blunt, the office was a fire trap."

Nancy nodded – disappointment apparent on her face. Vanessa felt the urge to comfort her just as Frank moved closer to her and wrapped an arm around her waist. His dark head dipped lower and he pressed his lips against Nancy's reddish-blond waves.

Van noticed that Anna had begun clearing the dinner dishes and decided to help. As she slipped by Nancy on her way to the kitchen, Van surreptitiously squeezed her hand in comfort. She was rewarded with grateful smiles from both Nancy and Frank.

In the kitchen she received another grateful smile, this time from Anna. "Oh, Vanessa, you're such a dear."

"It's absolutely no problem, Anna. The meal was delicious," Vanessa said. "Thank you so much for hosting the dinner party. I know it means a lot to Nan."

They set to work and soon had the dishes washed, dried and put away. Anna waved a hand back toward the living room. "I suppose we should be winding up the evening. You can be none too subtle with Oggy. He'd go on all night if we let him."

Frank, Nancy and Joe headed out to the back porch after bidding Oggy good night, but Vanessa trailed after Anna as she escorted her guest to the front door.

"Mr. Ogradnicek, thank you so much for coming to dinner with us tonight," Vanessa said warmly as she handed him his jacket.

He smiled at her. "Thank you, young lady. It's always a pleasure meeting such attentive young people. Unusual these days, I'm afraid."

Oggy paused as he was walking out the door and turned back to Vanessa. "I wonder – uh, Vanessa was it? I . . . I'm afraid I wasn't entirely up front with your friend when she asked about her grandparents' deaths."

"In what way, sir?" Vanessa asked.

"Well, the truth is that Martin Morgan was an old friend. The equipment that was in the house was only part of the problem. Martin had run lines from the house out to a receiver in the shed out back. I'm afraid that since Zachary had been kidnapped, Martin had become fiercely protective of his family- it bordered on obsessive behavior. It doesn't change the fact that the fire was an accident. I just wasn't sure that your friend should hear such disturbing information about her grandfather from a complete stranger. Martin was a wonderful man, but the loss of his son broke him. He was never the same after that."

"Mr. Ogradnicek –"

"Oggy, please."

"Oggy, do you know where Martin went during his extended absences from the house?" Vanessa asked.

"Until the day he died Martin never gave up looking for Zachary."

"Did he ever have any promising leads?"

"His trips were generally fruitless, but the last one before the fire was nearby. He had a lead that indicated that whoever snatched his son might be from fairly close to home. He spent weeks traveling around the Ithaca area. Unfortunately, he never did find any solid information on Zachary's whereabouts."

"Thank you so much, Mr. . . .um, Oggy. You've been so very helpful. Really."

"Good night, my dear."

Vanessa wished Anna a good night as she headed toward the back porch only to be caught by Joe and shooed back inside.

"But Oggy shared some information about Martin's search for his son that could be important."

Joe wrapped an arm around her shoulders and guided her back through the living room toward the stairs.

"You can share what you learned tomorrow, Van. We're done with investigating for the night."

"But –"

"No buts, babe. Well, you have a very nice butt, but –"

Vanessa yelped as Joe pinched her. She leapt a step ahead of him and smacked his hand. "Joseph Hardy, watch what you're doing!"

Joe leered at her, "I couldn't do it if I wasn't watchin', babe."

Van giggled and hurried up the stairs with Joe following close behind.

She let him catch up to her in their room, kicking the door shut as they wrapped around each other, their lips meeting in a passionate kiss. Joe was absolutely right.

They had done enough investigating for one day.

NH

A/N: Thanks, as always, for the reviews: Agent Striker (here's a candy bar for being first :), Smithy, Severedwasp, PrincessSkywalkerOrgana, Emeralds and Rubies, and JackieJacks. You are the best!


	16. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: I don't own Nancy Drew or the Hardy Boys (darn). The OCs are all mine, though (like that matters).

Happy Reading!

**Chapter 15: Regret & Recollection**

"Just be sure to lock up when you come in, kids. Good night!" Arthur said as he finished lighting the last of the tiki torches around the back deck.

From the shadows of the adjacent cobblestone patio, Nancy and Frank both said their goodnights to their host. Frank sat back in the cedar swing and wrapped an arm around Nancy's shoulders. She curled her legs up on the seat and laid her head on his shoulder.

"How're you holding up, sweetheart?" He asked as the door closed behind Arthur.

"I'm ok."

"You don't sound ok."

Nancy took a deep breath. "It's been a rough couple of days. I can't believe I never knew how my mother died . . . that Dad never told me."

He knew this past week had to have been difficult for her. First learning that her mother's death had been ruled a suicide only to find evidence that it was murder. Frank took a deep breath and squeezed Nancy's shoulders.

"Mom said her death was a shock to everyone – especially your father."

"Still he should have told me the truth."

"You were only five, Nan. He was just trying to protect his little girl."

"I suppose."

Nancy slipped out from under his arm and walked to the edge of the patio. The flickering light of the torches sent her shadow dancing across the back lawn and he found himself hypnotized by the movement. But before long the absence of her warmth next to him drove him to his feet. He walked up behind her, wrapping his arms around her and resting his chin on her head.

"You might feel better if you talked about it, sweetheart."

He felt Nancy stiffen. She pulled away and turned slowly to look up at him.

"I cannot believe you just said that to me."

The fire light reflected in her eyes and glinted off the red highlights in her hair and Frank found himself thinking she looked wild and beautiful even as he realized that she was angry with him.

And in all honesty, he didn't blame her a bit.

"I'm sorry, Nancy - truly, truly sorry."

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Frank's shoulders slumped and Nancy felt her anger slip away as quickly as it had risen. She couldn't stay angry at him anyway. He was who he was – caring, protective and stoic to the point of seeming indifferent at times.

She crossed her arms to stop herself from wrapping them around him. They needed to talk and if she allowed herself to get too close she was afraid that wouldn't happen. While he might not want to tell her what had happened with Bucciano, she had to at least try to make him understand how she felt about his continuing silence on the subject.

"I don't want you to be sorry, Frank. I want you to talk to me. I've spent the last two days wishing you were with me so I could tell you what was going on and have you listen and . . . and analyze and tell me everything was going to be alright. You are my comfort and I can't understand why you won't let me be the same to you."

"You are."

He pulled her back into his arms. Nancy knew she couldn't resist so she buried her face in his shoulder. She had missed him so much and when he held her she felt safe no matter what was going on around them. His lips pressed against the top of her head.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I've been shutting you out and I know that's wrong. It's just that everything lately seems to reinforce my fears which have everything to do with the fact that you are my comfort . . ." he hesitated and his grip tightened. "No, it's more than that. You're everything to me, Nan. And I'm terrified that something is going to happen to take you away."

She pulled back and looked up at him. "I'm not going anywhere, Frank."

"Not voluntarily," he said.

He let her go and began to pace, shaking his head as he continued.

"You know that my heart nearly stopped when I walked up to my parents' house earlier today and my father said that I wouldn't be able to reach you on the phone? In the split second before he told me that you were in flight, I imagined every possible scenario that could take you away from me. And then just minutes later he's telling me to get to Ithaca and stick to you like glue because he's worried that you could be in danger."

"I tried to call you."

"I know. I'm not angry at you, Nan. I'm just trying to explain the kinds of fears that eat at me, particularly when we're away from each other. And now that the wedding is only a few weeks away I can't help but wonder what our life is going to be like once we're married, living under one roof and both working in this profession we've chosen. I mean, is it fair to even consider starting a family given the dangers we potentially expose ourselves to every day?"

His pace had been increasing as he talked. Nancy put a hand on his arm. "Whoa, Frank, stop. Is that what the nightmares are about – the hazards of our work?"

He stared at her for a few seconds before answering, "Yes and no."

Frank took her hand and led her back to the swing. She knew he was stalling to give himself time to organize his thoughts, so she didn't press him. Sitting down facing him, she waited patiently for him to continue.

"I told you that the physical stuff bothered me a lot less than the mind games Bucciano played. I hate to even admit that I let him get to me but I guess I did."

Frank seemed to be studying their joined hands intently as he spoke, his voice low and hoarse.

"Bucciano narrates most of my nightmares. The flavor varies, but they almost always involve some sleaze from my past coming back to take revenge – not by hurting me, but by hurting the people closest to me. Bucciano took a great deal of pleasure in telling me what his brother would do to you. I . . ."

Frank licked dry lips and his dark eyes were haunted when he finally looked up at her. "I can't talk about the specifics but that's the most common nightmare. Sometimes you aren't the target – sometimes it's Joe, sometimes Mom and Dad, sometimes . . . sometimes it's even a cute little strawberry blond toddler that calls me Daddy. I think those might be the worst but they all scare the shit out of me."

Nancy impulsively reached forward to wrap her arms around him but they were knee to knee and she had trouble angling herself to hold him. Without warning, Frank reached around her and scooped her onto his lap, his embrace crushing in its intensity.

It was awhile before his grip loosened so Nancy could shift enough to slip an arm behind his neck. Frank settled back into the swing.

Nancy ran a hand over his hair. "I thought I was comforting you? This looks much more like you comforting me."

The tension lessened in Frank's shoulders and he gave her a lopsided grin.

"Holding you is always a comfort, sweetheart. It keeps Bucciano at bay."

She shifted so she could look into his face. "Let me tell you something, Frank Hardy. You are one of the most capable, intelligent and resourceful people I have ever known. The Buccianos of this world are severely outclassed when it comes to getting the better of you."

"You're putting an awful lot of faith in me, Drew."

The uncertainty reflected in Frank's face was frightening to Nancy. He had always been confident where his abilities were concerned. Bucciano had obviously shaken that self-assurance.

"I am," she said firmly. "And I think you should have a little faith in yourself and in me and maybe even in any unborn children that might enter our life in the future. You aren't in this alone, Frank."

His face cleared marginally and he gave an un-amused snort. "You know, Rachel said basically the same thing."

"I knew I liked her. Bucciano can only win if you let him. You know you're better than that slime ball. What happened to the confident investigator that I've always known?"

"He got kidnapped twice in as many weeks and as a bonus I even got you kidnapped once. It was enough to shake anyone's confidence, Nan."

"First of all, you didn't 'get me kidnapped.' It isn't the first time things like that have happened and I doubt it will be the last. We've always made it through those little ordeals fine before and there's no reason to think that will change. Secondly, I would think that given the way the FBI, Riley and your own father are fighting over you for employment that it would restore your confidence. You're good at what you do. Everyone around you sees it – I don't understand how you could lose sight of it."

Frank face relaxed into a surrendering smile. "That means a lot coming from you, Nan."

Nancy sighed. Though Frank was relaxing somewhat, it still didn't look like she was making much headway on restoring his self-confidence. That bothered her more than anything else.

"Do you remember when you first asked me out?"

Frank's responding tone was wry, "You mean after we spent the evening taking a beating, followed by a night of trudging through Harrington only to be arrested by the MPs? How could I forget?"

Nancy pursed her lips. "Always the pessimist, Hardy. We made it out of that mess _together_ with Joe and your Dad at our backs. I've always felt kind of invincible when we work together. I have incredible faith in _us_."

She heard the rumbling chuckle in Frank's chest. "Again, you're absolutely right. But I am not a pessimist – I prefer to think of myself as a realist. Being partnered with Mr. Joe Risk-taker all my life I find it pays to be cautious."

"Point taken. You are the cautious, thoughtful half of the duo and that's not a bad thing," she said with a smile. "You just need to remember that."

Frank nodded, gaze turned inward as his aura of self-assuredness flickered back into existence. "We do make a pretty good team, don't we? You, me . . . Joe. I think I've really missed that over the last couple of years."

"Me, too."

Nancy closed her eyes and snuggled closer to Frank. They sat in comfortable silence until she felt him stifle a yawn.

"Ready for bed?" She asked as she opened her eyes reluctantly.

"I think so." Frank ran a hand over her hair and kissed her forehead. "This was way better than going to see Dr. Chase. Way less expensive, too."

She sat up and looked at him critically. "You cancelled your appointment?"

"Yes I did. And before you say anything, I figured there was very little chance I was going to make it back to Bayport by tomorrow afternoon. I also called the guys to cancel our dinner plans for tomorrow evening."

Nancy grimaced. "I'm sorry."

"Sweetheart, I would much rather be here with you chasing down a twenty-year-old cold case than just about anything I could be doing in Bayport without you."

Sighing as she got to her feet, Nancy turned and looked at him apologetically.

"I just hope you're still saying that in a couple of days."

He stood and wrapped her in his arms. "I thought you had faith in me, Drew."

"Of course I do," she said, slipping her arms around his neck

"I'm glad to hear that."

The warm timbre of his voice set Nancy's heart racing. She pulled away and took his hand to lead him toward the back door.

"I think it's time for bed."

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Dappled sunlight filtered down through the leaves of the large oak tree that shaded the back patio of the Lavender Lady. Joe lounged in a padded deck chair next to a glass-topped table enjoying another cup of Anna's coffee. Vanessa and Nancy had disappeared around the side of the house, trailing after Anna as she shared her knowledge of the plants in her gardens. He was just as happy sitting right where he was.

He looked up as his brother approached from the back door of the house, coffee in hand.

Frank dropped into the empty chair across from Joe with a mumbled, "G'morning."

"It's about time you rolled out of bed, bro."

Stifling a yawn Frank said, "I slept like a log last night. It was a huge relief to finally talk to Nancy about everything. I don't know why I waited so long to do it."

"Because you're over-protective and freaking stubborn," Joe said. "I'd say I told you so –"

"You just did."

"I did, didn't I? So you owe me one. I had a heck of a time keeping Vanessa in the house last night. I was forced to distract her with my boyish charms." Joe grinned at the memory of the distraction.

"Yeah, I can see that was a real hardship for you."

"Not like you didn't get lucky last night, too," Joe said. "You and Nan need to learn to keep it down."

Frank nearly spit out his coffee. "You're full of it. The walls of this house are thick. You didn't hear anything."

"Keep telling yourself that, bro." Joe flashed his brother a wicked grin.

"Frank, Joe, could I bother you to give me a hand?" Arthur stood at the back door looking out at them.

"Sure, Arthur," Frank said, standing. "What do you need?"

"Well, Anna woke me up in the middle of night to remind me we had a box of Eliza's things in the attic somewhere. Unfortunately, I've looked in all the accessible places and not found it. I'm afraid it may be buried in one of the corners of the attic behind some rather bulky furniture we have stored up there. I could use a couple of strong young men to help me move things out of the way so we can search."

Joe jumped up. "Let's go!"

"Does Nancy know you have a box of Eliza's things?" Frank asked as they followed Arthur into the house.

"Heavens no," Arthur said with a chuckle. "Anna said she wasn't going to tell her anything until we found the box. She just couldn't stand to disappoint Nancy."

"I didn't think so," Frank said with a chuckle. "Otherwise Nan would have been hoisting furniture out of the way single-handedly."

Arthur's face sobered. "Yes, Anna said Nancy is very anxious to know her mother. And Anna for her part is thrilled to talk to her about Eliza. I think she sees it as a way to make it up to Eliza for not being able to comfort her after her parents died."

Joe pursed his lips. "Anna was really hurt when Eliza asked to be moved, wasn't she?"

"Not so much hurt as disappointed," Arthur said as he turned at the folding staircase that led up to the attic. "She really loved that little girl but she understood why she felt she had to leave. It didn't make the leaving any easier to take but Eliza had given us a wonderful gift. She was the first of many children that we fostered. It made it much easier to accept our inability to have a child of our own."

He motioned up the steep set of steps. "Watch yourself on the ceiling – I've conked myself on the head more times then I can count over the years."

Joe's head popped through the hallway ceiling into an attic with more nooks and crannies then he had ever seen. Shafts of colored light shone through the stained glass windows in the high gables of the house, providing more than sufficient light for their pending search.

Dust danced through the light swirling in crazy patterns as he moved into the big open room with his brother close behind. It was exactly the kind of space in which he had always imagined finding an old pirate map.

"Very cool," he breathed as he did a full three sixty to survey the contents. The place was stacked high with the accumulation of a long and full life – dozens of boxes were tucked amongst antique furniture and a myriad of other objects that obviously held special meaning to Arthur and Anna.

Frank clapped him on the back with a laugh, "Come on, little brother. Let's help Arthur find the box of Eliza's things. Then you can hunt for your buried treasure."

Joe gave him a sheepish grin. Sometimes he wondered if Frank could read his mind but he knew it was just the familiarity that came with growing up so close.

Arthur shared memories about the various objects they moved around, his narrative playing as a backdrop to their labor for the next forty five minutes. Luckily, though there was no real organization to the clutter in the attic, each box was carefully labeled with its contents. It was in the third place Arthur had them dig that they finally came across a box labeled 'Eliza.'

nhnhnhnhnhnh

"I've always loved the varied texture and color of gallardia – they are definitely one of my favorites of the aster family, though I do hate picking favorites. I love how the petals slowly emerge from the bud button. I even find the seed pods attractive which is why I don't keep mine trimmed, though I know many gardeners would be appalled."

Vanessa smiled gratefully at Anna but her attention was distracted from the clump of beautiful blanket flowers that her host was describing as Nancy moved away to stand at the corner of the large Victorian house gazing out at the gardens of the front yard.

Anna must have noticed, too, and walked to Nancy's side solicitously. "You look very pensive, Nancy dear. Is something bothering you?"

"Your gardens . . ." Nancy murmured.

Vanessa joined Anna next to Nancy. "What is it, Nan?"

Nancy swallowed and stepped out into the front yard, moving as if in a trance. "My mother installed gardens that looked just like these in front of our home in Chicago. My father has maintained them like this every year since she died."

As she moved along one of the curving paths between two beds, her eyes darted from plant to plant. "She even planted most of the same perennials and annuals – blanket flowers were always one of my favorites but I remember how she tucked the herbs in amongst the flowers just like this and talked about creating variety in color, texture and scent."

"A true symphony for all of the senses," Anna said quietly.

Nancy turned and looked at her, an affectionate smile on her face.

"She even used to walk me around the gardens as a child and tell me the names of the plants – just like you were doing for Vanessa and me, Anna. You must have really made an impression on her."

Anna's violet eyes were moist with unshed tears. "That means so much to me, Nancy. I would love to see Eliza's gardens someday."

"I think that would make her very happy, Anna," Nancy said, embracing the woman.

Vanessa looked up toward the house just in time to see Joe waving to them excitedly.

"Vanessa! Nancy! Anna! Come inside and see what Frank, Arthur and I have been up to!"

Anna pulled away and patted Nancy's arms in excitement. "Oh, they must have found it! Come on girls, I can't wait for you to see!"

Nancy and Vanessa exchanged a curious look as they were ushered into the house.

In the living room a box sat in the middle of the round claw-foot table. Frank stood nearby and Nancy went straight to him. Vanessa felt Joe's arm around her waist as she watched Frank wrap his around Nancy's shoulders. Anna walked up to Arthur and gave him a peck on the cheek as he draped a beefy arm around her petite frame. Vanessa let loose a contented sighed as Joe planted a kiss on her nose.

"You are such a sap, Van," he murmured in her ear.

She pointed at the box. "So what's in there?"

"Well, why don't we find out?" Arthur stepped away from Anna and lifted the lid off the box.

Arms locked around each other, Joe and Vanessa leaned forward to look inside the box, as did Nancy and Frank.

All of them held their breath as they caught their first glimpse of Eliza's childhood treasures.

NH

A/N: Reviewers are THE BEST: Agent Striker (here's ANOTHER candy bar for being first :), Emeralds and Rubies, bhar and JackieJacks. I cannot express what those little notes mean to me :)

Just a mini-cliffie to whet your appetite. I promise much bigger ones later in the story – moohahahahaha!


	17. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: I don't own Nancy Drew or the Hardy Boys. The OCs are all mine, as are the twists and turns of the mystery.

Happy Reading!

**Chapter 16: Dates & Dares**

Arm still wrapped protectively around Nancy, Frank looked in the box in anticipation. A ragged old stuffed animal lay as a sentinel over a stack of spiral-bound notebooks.

Anna gave a sad chuckle. "Ah, yes. I remember now. Eliza had stashed these in the back of the closet in her room. I found them while cleaning several weeks after she left. I called her social worker to tell her that we had them for her. But Eliza never came back to retrieve them."

Arthur shook his head. "I had forgotten they were even up there."

Nancy picked up the stuffed animal and set it aside as Frank lifted the first notebook and opened it. A neat if childish scrawl filled the pages of the book. He looked up at Nancy who had dug into the stack and held another notebook.

"More journals." Frank felt a surge of optimism – maybe the twenty-year-old cold case of Eliza Morgan Drew's murder wouldn't be as difficult as he had feared if she kept journals so religiously.

Joe reached in and took one too. "I wonder if Eliza always kept journals? I mean, if there are more –"

"They could hold the answer to her murder," Frank finished.

"Murder?" Arthur and Anna gasped in unison.

Frank looked at the elderly couple sympathetically. "Yes. That's what brought Nancy out to Ithaca so suddenly. She found evidence that her mother was murdered. We're hoping to find out why."

Arthur shook his head in disbelief. "Why would anyone murder such a sweet little girl?"

Frank caught his brother's eyes and they exchanged a worried look. Eliza might have been a sweet little girl when Arthur and Anna knew her but obviously something had happened between then and when she met Carson Drew. Whatever it was had been bad enough to send Eliza running away from her home to start a whole new life in Chicago.

Whatever had happened, it had made Eliza Morgan Drew an enemy lethal and persistent enough to follow her to Chicago years later to remove her as a perceived threat. The question foremost in Frank's mind was whether that enemy would view Nancy as a threat as well.

Joe laid the notebook he had been skimming on the table and picked up another. "Well, while I believe one of Eliza's journals could provide the information to break this case, I seriously doubt we'll find anything helpful in one of these. Eliza was only what – ten when she wrote them?"

Frank dug through the stack looking at the date ranges, which were printed in permanent marker on the front of each notebook. The earliest notebooks were at the bottom.

"Actually, it looks like these started in the summer about two years before her parents' death."

"That would have been about the time that Zachary was kidnapped," Anna said with a start.

Nancy held up the journal in her hands.

"This is her first journal entry and explains the timing." Nancy read from the journal:

_Mom and Dad made me go to a therapist today. His name is Tim. He's ok, I guess. He gave me this notebook and told me to write in it. I asked him what I was supposed to write about and he said whatever I feel. I guess it would be easier to write about it than talk about it. When I try to talk about it I just want to cry._

_I feel sad mostly. I miss Zacky – he was so cute and fun and I barely got to know him before he was gone. I know Mom and Daddy miss him too and I think they're both worried. Mom won't let me out of the house because she's afraid someone will take me. Daddy just looks sad. He barely comes out of his office upstairs and when he does he leaves the house for days at a time. I miss him when he's gone but I don't see him any more when he's home. I just wish they would find Zack – then everything could get back to the way it used to be – when we were happy._

"It was part of her therapy after her brother's kidnapping," Frank said. "That makes sense. It must have become a lifetime habit."

"Nan, did you ever ask your dad if there were other journals?" Joe asked hopefully.

"Of course I did. He said there were none. Apparently before he ever met her, Mom had begun a tradition of burning her old journal at the start of the year and beginning a new one. She never even let Dad read her journals except on very rare occasions."

Joe slumped into a chair. "That figures."

"Get a grip, little brother. You know cold cases are rarely easy to solve. We have a lot of footwork ahead of us."

"Oh no!" Vanessa jumped up, eyes on the clock. "I forgot all about my breakfast meeting with Rod. I'll only be a little late if I leave right now."

Joe made a face. "I'm not so sure you should go anyway."

"We talked about this, Joe. I'm going," Vanessa said.

"I'm taking you then," Joe said, standing.

"You don't bring your brother on a date." Vanessa put her hands on her hips and fixed Joe with a stern expression.

Joe grunted. "I'm not your brother. And this is no longer just a background check, it's a murder investigation. There's a big difference, Vanessa."

"I am not going to debate the semantics with you again, Joe," Vanessa said. "If you want to drive me, fine. But you had better make yourself scarce at the diner or Rod is going to be scared off."

Joe followed Van, his expression downright stormy. "I'll stick in the background, but if Slick tries anything I'm going to flatten him."

Frank grimaced and then looked critically at his brother.

"Don't make me bail you out of jail, huh Joe? And call when you're finished at the diner so we can touch base and coordinate."

Frank suspected that if it hadn't been for Anna and Arthur's presence, Joe's departing wave would have included a one-fingered salute.

"I hope to hell he behaves," Frank muttered to himself and then turned back to Nancy. "Meanwhile, I think we should go to the Office of Children's Services. I think Joe's right – you'll have a lot better luck getting information out of them than he and Van did yesterday."

Nancy gathered up the notebooks and tossed them back into the box. "Sounds like a plan. I can read through these later, just to make sure there isn't anything useful in them."

Frank picked up the box. "I'll take them up to our room. You'll want to read them regardless of their usefulness in the case – they'll help you get to know your mom, Nan. That's important, too."

He dropped a kiss on her head before starting upstairs. Nancy was trying way too hard to treat this like it was just another case. He suspected she was detaching so she could be dispassionate and evaluate what they found.

He just wasn't so sure that was a good thing.

nhnhnhnhnhnh

Nancy felt Anna's hand on her shoulder as she watched Frank disappear up the stairs.

"They are such thoughtful and sweet young men. You and Vanessa are both very lucky ladies."

Nancy smiled at her. "Yes, we are."

"Well, I'm going to go tidy up the kitchen and get ready for my bridge club," Anna said.

"And I am going to go close up the attic," Arthur said.

Left alone, Nancy felt at loose ends. Looking down, she realized that she had forgotten to put the stuffed animal back in the box. It was a dopey looking bloodhound with big, sad eyes and floppy ears. It had several bald spots where it looked like a little head had lain regularly. Its worn felt collar had a home made tag that read 'Sherlock' safety pinned to it. Eliza had obviously loved the stuffed animal immensely at one time. She wondered if her mother had ever realized that she left her old friend behind.

She wrapped her arms around the ragged hound and rested her head on his.

"I wish you could talk, Sherlock."

Warmth and love surrounded most of her early memories of her mother like a halo. But the truth of her mother's tragedy-strewn childhood coupled with her apparent murder made Nancy doubt the vague recollections of her childhood self. She fingered Sherlock's nubby-furred paw as her thoughts about her mother turned into a maelstrom of sadness and loneliness. Had she ever really known her mother at all?

Frank reappeared. His soft smile helped calm the chaos in her mind.

He cocked an eyebrow at the stuffed animal. "The perfect pet."

Nancy smiled as she set aside the stuffed animal on the couch wishing it was as easy to set aside the jumble of emotions that was threatening to cloud her judgment. She needed to approach this case with a clear head and that was proving difficult.

Standing, she patted the hound's head and said, "Sherlock's pretty cute even if he is balding. Do you know where you're going?"

"Arthur just gave me directions and keys to a car he said we could borrow. First stop is Children's Services and we'll see where that leads us."

"After you . . . Sherlock," Nancy teased.

Frank flashed a roguish smile over his shoulder as he walked out of the door.

"Promise to hold me like you were holding that stuffed dog and you can call me whatever you like, sweetheart."

Nancy hurried to catch up to him and wrapped her arms around him from behind as he started down the front steps. Unfortunately, she couldn't get quite high enough to rest her chin on his head. Frank laughed as he reached back to hook an arm under each of her knees, pulling her onto his back.

She giggled as he began to gallop toward the car. Using the movement to her advantage, she managed to inch up on his back enough to nip at his ear.

"I will absolutely hold onto you forever, Frank Hardy."

He stopped at the car and kissed her nose as she slid to ground.

"You better, Drew."

nhnhnhnhnhnh

Vanessa handed Joe a newspaper and convinced him to stay in the car while she went into the diner. She knew he wasn't happy about the arrangement but she hoped he would chill out and stay put. The waitress on duty today was another pretty young woman with brown curls and golden brown eyes whose name tag identified her as Lori.

Lori told Vanessa that Rod had gone into the back a few minutes before her arrival. Glancing at the clock, Van realized that she was nearly twenty minutes late and wondered if Rod had given up on her.

A group came in and Lori was distracted so Van headed into the side hall where Lori had indicated 'the back' was. Past the bathrooms and around a corner she found a closed door. She slowed as she approached.

Inside she could hear voices and after glancing around to make sure there was no one nearby, she pressed her ear to the crack of the door to listen.

"I told you I had two new girls starting this week. Why in the hell did you hire Kiki?"

"She's a pretty girl. I'm sure she'll do just as well as the other girls."

"You moron. Her parents live right here in town."

"I just thought –"

"That's the problem, Rodrigo. You do not think. We only hire girls from TNT – out-of-town girls with no family ties. Period. There's a damn good reason for that."

"I really don't get why, Pop. I'm sorry."

"Sorry don't cut it, kid. This will all be yours soon and if you don't get your head outta your ass and pay attention you're gonna get burned. Now call Kiki and tell her you're sorry but you made a mistake."

Vanessa heard a chair scrape on the floor. "You want me to fire her? I just hired her four days ago. What am I supposed to tell her?"

"That's your problem. Get rid of her. Today."

Approaching footsteps accompanied Rod's browbeaten response, "Alright. I'll go call her now."

With nowhere to go, Vanessa raised her hand and rapped lightly on the door just as Rod opened it. Dressed in a black suit with a black dress shirt and no tie, his unruly dark hair casting irregular shadows across an angular, roguish face, Rod Padovano was the dangerous kind of handsome that Van usually avoided. With a conscious effort, she smiled at him brightly.

"Hello Rod! Lori told me I'd find you back here. I'm so sorry. I hope I'm not too late for breakfast."

Stepping through the door hastily, Rod pulled it shut. "I'm afraid I have work to do, Vanessa. Can I get a rain check?"

"I'm only in town for another day or two." Vanessa pouted and batted her eyes at him.

Rod glanced at the door and then back at Vanessa before flashing her a smile. "Tonight, then. Can I pick you up somewhere for dinner?"

"Do you know the Lavender Lady B&B in South Hill?"

"I'm sure I can find it. I'll pick you up around six?"

Vanessa smiled. "Great!"

Rod pulled a card and a pen out of his jacket pocket. He jotted a number on the back and held it out to her. "Here's my cell, just in case. Is there some way I can get in touch with you if something comes up?"

Vanessa took the proffered pen and asked for another card, which Rod produced. She put a hand on his shoulder and turned him slightly so she could use his back as a writing surface. She wrote her name and number on the back of the card and held it out to him with a coy smile.

"I'll see you tonight, Rod."

He made a point of stroking her hand as he took the card, his smile wolfish. "Until tonight, beautiful."

He turned and strode out a rear entrance at the end of the hall.

Vanessa turned on rubbery legs and headed out of the back hall toward the diner. As she turned the corner and started past the bathrooms a hand reached out and pulled her inside. When she turned around Joe had a hand planted on the wall on either side of her, his blue eyes snapping with anger.

"That was risky, Vanessa."

"I was fine. I figured if anyone came along I could just pretend I was knocking. I was fine. What are you doing in here? I told you to wait in the car." She cursed silently at the breathy sound of her voice. Joe had scared her nearly to death grabbing her like that.

"Are you telling me you were listening outside the door?"

Joe's eyes were wide in a crimson face. Joe rarely became this angry, at least at her, and it made Vanessa's hackles begin to rise in response.

"Yes," she said through gritted teeth.

"And I thought the damn date was risky enough! What in the hell were you thinking, Vanessa?"

Struggling to keep her tone reasonable, Vanessa answered, "I was thinking that I could learn something about what's going on here, if anything, and I was right. Rod's father is up to something shady, Joe. I'm not sure what, but something strange is going on here. And I figured that if I went out to dinner with Rod I could learn more."

She could tell Joe still wanted to argue. He slammed a fist into the wall as he pushed himself away from it and from her

You are _not_ going out to dinner with Slick," Joe said harshly.

Vanessa squared her shoulders as she straightened up. "I most certainly am. Now can we get out of here before someone catches us?"

"Vanessa, this isn't a game."

"I know it's not, Joe. I want to help Nancy as much as you do. Just let me do this one little thing. What could possibly happen?"

She ran a hand over Joe's broad back, feeling the knotted muscles and knowing that it was her fault he was so tense. Joe shrugged her hand off and cracked the door open to poke his head out into the hallway.

Pushing Van out of the door, he hissed, "You go ahead. I'll follow in a few minutes and meet you at the car."

Ten minutes later Joe was peeling out of the parking lot. "Alright, Vanessa. Tell me what you heard in that office that makes you think something is up with Slick and his father."

Vanessa gave him a quick run down on what she had heard. "It didn't sound like Rod's father was at all happy about him hiring a local girl. That struck me as odd."

"It's odd alright. And who or what is 'TNT?'"

"I have no idea."

"Jesus, Van, I really don't like this. You told Rod where we were staying _and_ you gave him your cell!"

Vanessa grimaced. "Was that a mistake?"

"Sweet Jesus, Vanessa," Joe muttered.

He flipped his phone opened and hit the number two. Van knew that was his speed dial for his brother.

Frank must have answered a few rings later. Joe's voice snapped with irritation and Vanessa cringed as she listened to his side of their brief conversation.

"Where are you, bro?"

"It went just freaking peachy. We need to meet and discuss what we're going to do about Vanessa's date with Rod tonight."

"Yeah, you heard me right. She's going to dinner with him tonight. He's picking her up at the Lavender Lady at six o'clock."

"Right. We'll see you there."

Joe snapped his phone shut and dropped it into the cup holder between their seats. Vanessa kept her mouth shut and hoped that a little time would cool his obvious anger.

She crossed her arms and looked out the window. She was feeling angry, too. She was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. But she knew Joe was angry because he was worried and that made her begin to worry.

Just what _had_ she gotten herself into?

NH

A/N: A million thanks to my two reviewers last chapter: JackieJacks & Polgara218. I know there are more of you out there reading . . . hint, hint.


	18. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: I don't own Nancy Drew or the Hardy Boys. The OCs are all mine, for better or worse.

Happy Reading!

**Chapter 17: Advocates & Adversaries**

Frank shoved his phone back into his pocket and turned to find Nancy ending the call with her father.

"That was interesting," he said.

"I could hear him. What has Joe so spun up?" Nancy asked.

"He's not happy about Van's involvement in the investigation. I told him we'd meet them at the library as soon as we were done here. What's up with your dad?"

"He's on his way to Bayport and just wanted to check in." Nancy's tone was dismissive but Frank could tell she was still grappling with lingering anger at her father.

"He loves you, Nan. You need to let go of it and forgive him."

"I know. It's just easier said than done."

The display on Nancy's phone lit up, though Frank didn't hear a ring. She looked at it and her face tightened. He was surprised when she didn't answer it, instead shoving it into her pocket. He was about to ask her who she was avoiding when she spoke, her voice snapping with irritation.

"What is taking so long?"

The receptionist had promised to have someone come out to make an appointment with Nancy shortly. That had been over half an hour ago.

"I don't know. Hopefully someone will be with us soon. Just relax, Nan," he said as he rubbed her back soothingly. Feeling her tension, he decided now wasn't the time to question her about ignored phone calls.

Five minutes later the door that led to the offices opened and a dark-haired woman with an inviting smile walked through and straight up to Nancy with her hand held out.

"You must be Eliza's daughter. You look just like her," she said, gripping Nancy's hand and practically pulling her to her feet. "I'm Prudence Lawson. I was your mother's social worker while she was in the system."

"It's very nice to meet you Ms. Lawson. I'm Nancy Drew and this is my fiancé, Frank Hardy."

Frank stood and shook the woman's hand, admiring the firm grip. "It's nice to meet you, Ms. Lawson. It's good of you to talk to us."

"Please call me Pru. I'm sorry it took me so long to get out here. This is a rather unusual circumstance and I wanted to check with my supervisor about what I can and cannot share."

"You can talk to us about my mother, can't you?" Nancy asked.

"Oh, yes. Since she passed away, her records are no longer confidential. I'm afraid the families she was placed with are an entirely different matter, though – that information I cannot provide. But I'm free to discuss Eliza herself with you. Unfortunately, though I was her social worker for eight years, I'm afraid there's not much I can tell you. She was a very private person."

"Anything you could tell us would help," Nancy said. "If you have time perhaps you could join us for lunch?"

Pru glanced at her watch and nodded. "Just let me go get my purse."

They decided to walk to a little Italian restaurant down the street. On the way there Frank called his brother to let him know of the delay. Joe told him that he would go see Sheila Livingston and then meet them back at the Lavender Lady later in the afternoon.

Frank's parting comment to his brother was to chill out. Joe grunted, so Frank knew he had heard him. Unfortunately, hearing and listening were in two different universes when Joe was in this kind of mood.

nhnhnhnhnhnh

The restaurant was busy but they arrived at the tail end of the lunch rush and were able to get seated in a quiet corner almost immediately. They made small talk while they placed their orders.

Prudence Lawson had worked at Children's Services for the last thirty years, ever since she had graduated from college. She was a passionate children's advocate. Nancy was especially interested to learn that Eliza had been one of Pru's first charges as a new social worker. It wasn't until their meals were delivered that they began to discuss Eliza in particular.

Pru smiled as she reminisced. "Eliza was a very sweet girl, well-behaved and intelligent, but reserved to the point of being almost painfully shy. Like a lot of the older kids in the system, she chose to isolate herself from the families she was placed with. She bounced from home to home quite a bit."

"Was that because she got in trouble?" Nancy asked.

"Heavens, no. Eliza was always a model foster kid. Most of the moves were made at her request."

"Do you know if she kept in touch with any of her foster families?" Frank asked.

"I don't think so. From the time she was ten until she exited the system at eighteen, she was in probably half a dozen different homes."

"Were there any other children in the system that she was close to?" Nancy asked.

"Now that you mention it, there were a couple girls Eliza was close to. Let me see . . . one was Grace Murphy I know that. They were an interesting pair – my very first charges when I started work, which is probably why I remember them so well. Eliza and Grace were at the group home together a couple different times. I believe I even managed to have them placed at a foster family together once."

Pru smiled reminiscently. "Grace was a little older than Eliza and she had been in the system since she was five. Poor girl got jerked around quite a lot because her mother was still in the picture but deemed unfit time and again. Grace gave Eliza pointers on life as a ward of the state. In return, I think Eliza tried to give her hope for life _after_ being a ward of the state. I know those two girls were very close. But there was another girl that hung around with them in group home. Oh, for the life of me, I can't remember her name. I'll have to check back in my records and see if I can jog my feeble memory."

Nancy was unable to keep the excitement out of her voice. The chance to meet a friend from her mother's past had an undeniable fascination.

"Do you know where Grace Murphy is now?"

"After graduation Grace moved to Richford for a job," Pru said thoughtfully. "Then she married and moved. I get a Christmas card from her every year. Now where do those come from . . . ?"

"You said she went to Richford for a job?" Frank asked. "Where in Richford did she work?"

"A little diner called Mama's Kitchen. Over the years quite a few girls have worked there as a first job after graduation."

"Like my mother," Nancy said.

Pru nodded her head thoughtfully. "I had forgotten that Eliza went to Richford when she graduated."

"Do you know if Grace got her the job?" Frank asked.

"Oh, no," Pru said. "Nearly all of our kids that choose to go straight into the work force get their first jobs through Turner Networking. I referred Eliza there, myself."

"So you have no idea where we might find Grace now?" Nancy couldn't keep the disappointment out of her voice.

"I know I got a card from her at Christmas, but I don't remember what the return address was and I give my cards to the craft program at the community center after the holidays are over. Honestly, I have enough trouble keeping track of all of my active case kids."

"Did Eliza hold any jobs before she graduated high school?" Frank asked.

Under the table his hand found Nancy's and squeezed. She smiled at him gratefully. It wouldn't serve any purpose to focus on what they couldn't learn. They needed to keep digging.

"As a matter of fact she ended up back in the group home when she turned sixteen and I remember her getting a job at the Law Advocates office. I remember it well because when she was placed with a family on the other side of town she had to quit and her boss stopped by the office to find out where she was. Of course, I couldn't tell him."

"Do you know if he's still in the area?" Nancy asked.

Pru was already pulling a pen and notepad out of her purse. "His name is Jim Bowers. He still works out of the same office. He's hired several kids from the group home over the years – represented several, too."

"Did he tell you what he wanted to see Eliza about?" Frank asked.

"He didn't tell me. I did deliver the message to Eliza. I can't tell you whether she ever got in touch or not. You'll have to ask him."

"When she moved to the new family, did she get another job?" Frank asked.

"Yes. I believe she worked at a little local grocery store. I'm afraid I don't remember the name – it was somewhere over in the Forest Home area, just off the Cornell campus. She didn't stay there long, though. I remember because she asked to be moved anywhere outside of Forest Home – she didn't want to be anywhere near the college campus. That's a pretty tall order in Ithaca. She said it just depressed her because she knew there was no way she would be able to afford to go to school. She was a good student but even with scholarships and financial aid, college is often difficult for foster kids due to the lack of a stable support system."

"And after that?" Nancy asked.

"After that she moved one more time but no more jobs that I know of. Until she graduated and I referred her to Turners, like I said before. I'm afraid I lost track of her after that."

"She didn't keep in touch with you, then?" Frank asked.

"I'm afraid not. Like I said, Eliza was always very private. Honestly, I think she wanted nothing more than to leave the foster system behind her and start a new life on her own."

While they were talking they had finished their meals. Frank settled the bill and they stood to leave. Out on the sidewalk, Pru Lawson turned and shook Nancy's hand warmly.

"I hope you find whatever it is you're looking for Nancy. I wish I could have been more help to you."

"You were a great help, Pru. Thanks so much for taking the time to talk to us."

Frank shook the woman's hand and they waved goodbye as they parted ways. Frank's arm circled Nancy's waist and she leaned into him.

"We're making progress, Nan. We'll go talk to Jim Bowers and see if we can track down the grocery store she worked at in Forest Home."

"Does it seem a little too coincidental to you that Mom and Grace both ended up working at Mama's Kitchen?"

"It could be as simple as the fact that Grace recommended her."

"I suppose you're right. Based on Joe's phone call it sounds like Vanessa may have overheard something interesting there, though," Nancy said hopefully.

"Yes. But Joe's not real happy about Van getting so involved in the investigation."

"Well, Joe can't tail Van to the restaurant but there's no reason you and I can't," Nancy said. "She'll be safe."

Frank grunted. "That's a good plan, sweetheart. Now we just have to convince Joe to sit this one out. That could be a challenge."

"I think we have time to go pay Mr. Bowers a visit now." Nancy said.

"Sure. His office isn't too far away. Let's go."

nhnhnhnhnhnh

Joe pulled into the Lavender Lady and parked. The place was starting to feel like a home away from home. Vanessa strode past him without a word and he sighed. She had been giving him the silent treatment for the last half hour – or had he been giving her the silent treatment? At this point in the argument it didn't really matter.

By the time he got into the house Van had disappeared. He checked the time and saw that he wasn't due at Sheila Livingston's for another half hour or so. He wandered into the living room and dropped into the upholstered chair next to the phone. Picking up the Ithaca directory, he started flipping through it to the 'T's.

There was no listing for 'TNT' but then whoever they were they were probably based out of Richford. He cursed silently and made a mental note to check the directory for Richford and the surrounding towns for a listing for 'TNT' – or maybe it was 'Tientee?' He began paging through the 'T's looking for anything close to what Vanessa had heard in the diner.

Vanessa cleared her throat and he looked up to find her standing nearby, arms wrapped around herself and uncertainty reflected in her pretty blue eyes.

"I hate it when we fight," she said.

"Me too."

She perched on the arm of a nearby chair. He wanted to tell her he was sorry. The problem was that he really wasn't. He didn't want her involved in this case and yet here she was, neck-deep in it. What really galled him was that it was his own damn fault.

"I know you aren't happy about me getting involved like this, Joe. I think I even I understand why you aren't happy. But I think you should consider how I feel. You used me as an excuse to get up here and then expect me to sit by quietly out of the way while you and Frank and Nancy do the investigating. Do you have any idea how useless that makes me feel?"

"I didn't mean to use you, Vanessa. But this is entirely different - you are basically going undercover in a murder investigation and that requires experience. I don't know if what you overheard has anything to do with Nancy's mother's death but it is most definitely shady if not downright illegal and if you aren't careful you are going to get hurt."

"I can do this, Joe. I'm not totally helpless. Besides, you guys will have my back. It's not like I'm going in there totally alone. How is it any different than if Nancy were to go out on a date with Rod?"

"Nancy knows what to do to ferret out the information she wants without tipping off her mark, Vanessa."

"So tell me what to do."

Joe stared at the phone book still open on his lap but he didn't really see it. He didn't want to tell her because he didn't want her to do it – bottom line. He stood up and put the phone book back where he had gotten it.

"I should get going –"

Vanessa stood too, arms no longer wrapped around herself protectively but crossed defiantly.

"I'm going with you."

Joe took a deep breath. "Fine. _We_ need to get going, then."

nhnhnhnhnhnh

Vanessa walked down the street next to Joe but kept her arms crossed. She was still fuming about their argument. They arrived at Sheila Livingston's house without saying a word to one another – the silence between them had resumed. She sighed in frustration. Joe could be so stubborn.

Sheila Livingston was a petite woman with raven-black, wavy hair, cut in a short easy-maintenance style that suited her square face. She led them into a living room that looked like it had been decorated in the 1970's and not updated since.

Sheila's gaze was curious as they sat down. "I'm wondering why it is you wanted to talk to me. I mean, I knew Eliza Morgan as a neighbor and friend but she left this neighborhood over thirty years ago."

Vanessa spoke up before Joe could. She provided a condensed version of the background on why they were here. She kept her description of Eliza's death brief and innocuous, avoiding mention of murder.

"So you see we're really just trying to learn all we can about Eliza so Nancy can get to know her mother. Anything you might remember would be helpful."

"Oh, I remember Eliza and her family well. What happened to them was so horrible that even as young as I was it made an impact."

"I'm sure it was difficult for everyone who knew the Morgans," Vanessa said sympathetically.

"Zachary's abduction, especially, shook this entire community," Sheila said. "Even my parents became almost obsessively protective. It spooked everyone."

"Were there any rumors about who was responsible?" Joe asked.

"I was only seven or eight at the time. Nobody told me anything," Sheila said with a laugh.

Joe leaned forward. "But did you ever overhear anything? Come on, Sheila – kids are like their own little pipeline of information. What kinds of rumors were flowing through the kid pipeline?"

Sheila shifted in her seat. "I wasn't really tapped into the kid pipeline. Even back then I didn't fit in."

"But you were friends with Eliza," Vanessa prompted curiously.

"Not at first. We were neighbors but she was older so we didn't really hang out together until –"

Sheila stopped and Vanessa sat forward and patted the woman's hand. "What happened to change that?"

With a sigh, Sheila shook herself. "You always think that at some point you'll outgrow your insecurities. Even when I was young I knew that I was different from other girls. There was a group of them that used to follow me after school and call me names. But there was this one time when it was more than just name calling. They threw rocks at me and when I ran away they followed. When they caught up to me they started pushing and kicking . . ."

An involuntary shudder shook the woman. She took a deep breath before continuing, "I don't know what would have happened if Eliza hadn't come along. She was fierce. She pulled those girls off of me, shouting at them the whole time that she was going to call the police. When it was all over I begged her not to go to the police or even to my parents. She agreed but she walked home with me every day after that."

"Until her parents died," Joe said.

"Well, until she left," Sheila corrected. "I really hoped she would stay when Anna and Arthur took her in. But she said it was too hard living around the corner from where her home had been. She cried when Mr. Cassidy had the house torn down. And when we would walk past there, she would just shake like a leaf. I know it was awful for her. When she told me she was leaving I asked her to write but she said it would be easier to make a clean break, to start new. Eliza was like that – she never looked back. She said there was no point. She was a truly amazing person. She taught me a lot about accepting the things I can't change and moving forward."

"Since you and Eliza were friends," Vanessa said thoughtfully. "Do you know where she was staying the night of the fire?"

"Yes. She was at Hillary Fields' house for a sleepover birthday party. Eliza didn't really like Hillary but her parents were friends with Hillary's parents. Eliza said Hillary was spoiled rotten."

"Do you know where we could find the Fields?" Vanessa asked.

"No. Her parents split and she moved away with her mother. I don't know what happened to them after that. I wasn't close to Hillary or her family. Again, Anna might be able to help you. If you haven't noticed, she and Arthur are like the neighborhood historians. They have been for as long as I can remember."

Vanessa couldn't help putting herself in Eliza's shoes and murmured, "It had to be awful for Eliza after the fire."

"I don't know that it was any worse than before," Sheila said. "This may sound cold – you'd have to understand how my parents were – but I remember my mother saying that it was for the best and looking back I think I would kind of agree. Mom said the fire put Amy and Martin out of their misery. And while I know Eliza grieved for her parents, I think she had been grieving for them ever since Zachary was kidnapped. Eliza's life was never the same after that. In some ways, I think her parents' deaths put Eliza out of her misery, too – at least here in South Hill."

The picture Sheila painted of Eliza's childhood was heart-wrenching. It seemed the more they learned about Nancy's mother, the more grief they unearthed.

They left a short while later, thanking Sheila Livingston for her time. Silence settled over Joe and her again but rather than being angry, it felt pensive. They were walking up to the Lavender Lady when Vanessa finally spoke.

"Eliza's childhood sounded awful, Joe. What do we tell Nancy?"

Joe sighed. "We tell her the truth, Van."

"That her grandparents lost it after her uncle was kidnapped and basically abandoned her mother?" Vanessa asked. She shook her head sadly. "I don't blame Eliza for wanting to escape South Hill."

"But you can't just run away from the past," Joe said.

"Would you want to face the reality Eliza was living?" Van asked. "I think I'd run away, too."

When Joe turned to look at Vanessa his expression was grim.

"The past tends to catch up to you eventually."

What had caught up to Eliza Morgan Drew in Chicago? Did it have anything to do with her brother's kidnapping? With her parents' death? With her time in foster care? With her first job at Mama's Kitchen?

There were so many terrible things in Eliza's past it was hard to know where to start. Van shivered as she followed Joe into the house.

NH

A/N: A million thanks to my reviewers last chapter: Severedwasp (this chapter was a tiny bit early :), smilingspaz (nice to hear from you, I'm glad I didn't cut the piggy back scene as I was tempted to several times during editing :), JackieJacks (always a pleasure to talk with you :) and Confidential Brunette (glad you're back :). Thanks to those who put the story on alert, too. I hope you'll feel moved to chime in some time!


	19. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: I don't own Nancy Drew or the Hardy Boys. The OCs are all mine, for better or worse.

Happy Mother's Day!

**Chapter 18: Patience & Pertinence**

"That was disappointing."

Nancy leaned back in the seat and checked her phone briefly as Frank pulled away from the curb. She returned the phone to her pocket with a frustrated sigh.

"Patience is a virtue, Drew," Frank said with a laugh. "He's just gone for the day, anyway. We'll stop by and see him tomorrow. Did you miss a call?"

"Yeah, nothing pressing," Nancy said dismissively, pulling out a notebook and a pen. "We should make notes while everything is fresh in our minds."

The drive back to the Lavender Lady went by quickly as she and Frank went over what they had learned with Nancy taking notes on leads they needed to follow up.

They found Joe sitting in the living room looking through the phone book. Vanessa was curled in a corner of the couch, ostensibly reading. The fact that she was still on the first page of the book indicated a lack of real attention to the words on the page, though.

They exchanged greetings as they sat down on the couch across from Van. Joe slapped the phone book closed and carried it with him as he came to join them. Rather than sitting on the couch next to Vanessa he chose a nearby chair. Nancy exchanged a glance with Frank.

"Did you learn anything from Children's Services?" Joe asked.

Frank proceeded to relate the basics of what they had learned and then nodded at Nancy. "We've developed a list of leads to follow up."

"We can divide and conquer tomorrow," Joe said and shook the phone book. "I've been trying to figure out who or what the 'TNT' is that Vanessa overheard Padovano mention. No luck so far."

"TNT as in dynamite?" Nancy asked. Joe was skipping a big chunk of information and she had a sneaking suspicion why. She turned to Vanessa. "Why don't you tell us what you learned at Mama's Kitchen today, Van?"

Vanessa started haltingly but by the time she got to the part where Joe pulled her into the bathroom she had worked up a full head of steam.

"I was scared out of my wits until I realized it was just Joe." Her jaw set and she glared at him. "Then I was just ticked."

Joe tossed the phone book on the coffee table. "Funny, I thought I was the one who was ticked. You're lucky it was just me."

Vanessa opened her mouth to retort but Frank distracted her with a question. "So you made a date with Rod for tonight. Do you know where you're going?"

Shaking her head, Van's expression turned uncertain. "No. And I know I made a mistake letting him know where I'm staying and what my cell number is."

Nancy shrugged. "Those aren't necessarily mistakes, Van - they just make it riskier if Rod figures out you aren't who you say you are – which he won't. Frank and I were thinking we could at least go and sit in the waiting area or the bar of wherever you're having dinner but it would be easiest if we knew ahead of time where you're going. Maybe you could give him a casual call and ask him."

"Oh and _that's_ not going to tip him off," Joe said as the lines of worry on Vanessa's forehead deepened.

Nancy gave Joe a sharp look. "No, it won't. We ladies have to know where we're going so we know how to dress. Isn't that right, Vanessa?"

Van's face cleared marginally. "Of course! I'm sure Rod would accept that reason."

Frank cast a meaningful look at Nancy and she nodded in understanding. She stood and held out a hand to Vanessa.

"Come on, Van. Let's make that call to Rod and then we'll get ready for a night out on the town."

Joe's expression darkened as Nancy spoke, his teeth grinding audibly. Vanessa cast a worried glance at him before she stood and followed Nancy out of the living room.

As they left Frank said, "Come on, bro. Let's go out back and cool off."

Joe's terse response followed them up the stairs.

"_Do not_ freaking patronize me, Frank."

Vanessa murmured, "What have I gotten myself into?"

Nancy took her arm. "Absolutely nothing you can't handle, Vanessa."

"But Joe says it's dangerous."

"I'll coach you on how to lead the conversation where you want it to go without tipping your hand. And while we're getting ready we can do a little contingency planning so you're prepared for whatever comes up. Besides, Frank and I will be right there so it's not like you're going in solo. You can do this, Vanessa. I have every confidence in you."

Vanessa took a deep breath and pulled out her cell. "First, I guess I should call Rod and find out where we're going."

Nancy gave her an encouraging smile. "You go, girl!"

nhnhnhnhnhnh

Frank crossed his arms and watched as his brother threw himself into a deck chair.

"Get a grip, Joe. Vanessa will be fine."

"And you can guarantee that?"

"As much as I can guarantee she won't have a car accident in the next week. What's really bothering you?"

Joe was tapping his foot against the table leg every couple of seconds causing a candle to clatter rhythmically against the glass table top and quickly wearing on Frank's nerves. He grabbed his brother's knee to stop the incessant noise and got in his face.

"Chill out and spill it, Joe."

Joe grunted and pushed Frank's hand away.

"Van's right. I used her to get to Ithaca. I knew Dad couldn't say 'no' to her wanting to attend a bridal show – even if it was six hours away. I even encouraged her to go along with the initial date to get info out of Slick. But when the case went from fact-finding to murder-solving I _did_ expect her to step out of the way and let us handle it. She doesn't know what she's doing, Frank, and I'm . . . I'm worried she's going to get hurt."

Frank gave a dry snort as he sat back. "Welcome to my world. Listen Joe, Van's going to be fine. She just needs a little primer on how to approach her 'date' tonight."

"And if Rod gets wise to her?"

"Nan and I won't let her out of our sight and if things get hairy we'll pull the plug. It's not like she's going in there alone. Vanessa can handle this, Joe. Have a little faith in her – and in us."

Joe ground his teeth. "Huh? Nancy feed you that line?"

"In a roundabout way I guess she did."

"Pathetic, bro."

"No more pathetic than not listening to your fiancée because you're pissed that she's going out on a date with another guy."

Joe gave him a wry smile. "Ok, Frank. Even _you_ have to admit that sounded just a little weird."

"Yeah, I guess it did."

Frank exchanged a look with his brother and they both burst into laughter. Joe seemed more relaxed as the laughter faded but he still looked worried.

"So what's the plan tonight?" Joe asked.

"Nancy and I are just going to trail along with Van and Rod. Meanwhile, I thought maybe you could go stake out Mama's Kitchen."

"And look for what?" Joe asked dubiously.

"I don't know," Frank said in frustration. "Anything suspicious, I guess."

"Sounds like a wild goose chase."

"We know something is going on there," Frank said.

"Something involving the girls," Joe agreed thoughtfully. "What could we be looking at?"

"They want out-of-town girls . . ."

"With no family ties," Joe finished Frank's thought. "And Kiki said she was hoping to meet a future lawyer or doctor – in fact she asked me if I was one. Maybe they're finding the girls husbands? That doesn't make much sense, though. I mean, how are they going to make a buck off of that?"

Frank pressed his lips together. "I don't know, but whatever dirty little scheme the Padovanos have going 'TNT,' whoever they are, must be providing them with a string of susceptible young women."

"Young women with no local family ties that are easy to manipulate and exploit. Which would explain why they don't want to hire local girls," Joe said, snapping his fingers. "Nobody suspects because the girls involved don't know anyone in Richford. That might explain how they've been at this for over twenty years and never been caught."

Frank held up a cautioning hand. "They've been at it for twenty years_ assuming_ that it has something to do with what happened to Eliza Morgan. But we don't know that for sure."

"I suppose you're right," Joe sighed and they both lapsed into silence, mulling over the facts they had gathered so far.

A minute later Frank jumped up from his chair. "Wait a minute, you said 'young women with no local family ties' . . ."

"Yeah, so?"

"Even better would be young women with _no_ family ties. I think I know who 'TNT' is!"

Rushing into the house, Frank picked up the phone book Joe had left laying on the table in the living room. He opened it to the business directory and found what he was looking for.

He slapped it onto the table and pointed at the advertisement for an Ithaca employment agency.

"Turner Networking Temps - TNT. Pru Lawson told us that they handle most of the job placement for the kids that are exiting the system. The perfect population to exploit – foster kids with no stable support system."

Joe dropped onto the couch, staring at the page. "But that still doesn't answer the original question – what are the Padovanos up to?"

Frank flashed his brother an optimistic grin. "Maybe between you and Van, we'll find out tonight."

"You don't really think Rod is going to tell Vanessa what's going on, do you?"

"I doubt it. But if she can get him to trust her, he might let something slip."

"And what's that going to take, Frank?"

"Vanessa draws the line, Joe. You don't have anything to worry about and you know it, so just relax," Frank said and then glanced up at the clock. "I better go up and get ready. Why don't you give Dad a call and have him see what he can find out about TNT. I already have him running down the Padovanos."

Frank stifled a laugh at Joe's responding groan.

"Do I have to?"

nhnhnhnhnhnh

"Are they ready yet?" Joe asked as his brother walked into the living room.

"I knocked on the door and they said they'd be right down, but who knows? Is this tie straight?"

Joe gave Frank a once over. Black slacks paired with a blue-gray shirt and a dark red tie, Joe couldn't help but smile as his brother fiddled almost nervously with his tie. Frank could pull of the GQ look better than just about anyone Joe knew but he was surprisingly oblivious to that fact.

"Your tie is fine," Joe said. "You and Nan need to leave soon if you're going to get out of here before Rod arrives."

But Frank wasn't even looking at him, let alone listening to him. Joe moved to the living room entrance and followed his brother's gaze. Nancy was walking down the stairs wearing a white off-the-shoulder peasant dress that hit about an inch above her knees with low-heeled white sandals on her feet. Her hair was pulled up in a loose bun with tendrils curling softly around her face. One look at Frank and Joe knew that as far as his brother was concerned there wasn't another person on the planet besides Nancy.

Frank caught Nan around the waist as she reached the first floor but Joe's attention was drawn back up the staircase where Vanessa was exiting their room. Dressed in a strappy silk dress in royal blue that accented the color of her eyes, Vanessa took his breath away. She wore her platinum hair loose and it framed her face in long, shiny waves. He met her at the bottom of the stairs, his anger about the evening forgotten as he pulled her into his arms.

She smiled at him, her eyes dancing with amusement as she kissed him warmly.

"This is hardly the kind of greeting a brother gives his sister," she said with a giggle. "Good thing Rod didn't see it."

"We can just tell him we're very close," Joe said.

He had just leaned in to nuzzle Van's neck when he heard Nancy clear her throat.

"Frank and I should go. And close siblings or not, I think Rod is going to become suspicious if he sees you and Vanessa like _that_."

Vanessa was smiling widely. "You were right, Nan. Joe didn't even notice."

"Notice what?"

Van took the bud out of her ear and showed him. "A gift from Riley. So Nan and Frank can hear everything. It makes me feel loads better knowing they'll be that close. We also came up with an almost true background story and several questions I can ask casually to lead our dinner conversation."

"We even worked out a distress signal in case the bud goes on the fritz," Nancy said.

Joe smiled at his future sister-in-law gratefully. That was when he noticed that Frank didn't seem to be paying any attention to them. He still had eyes only for Nan.

"Yeah, well, Frank had better remember why he's going out to dinner," Joe said, slugging his brother in the arm.

With what appeared to be extreme effort, Frank tore his eyes from Nancy and looked at Joe.

"I'll remember my job if you remember yours, little brother."

"Stake out Mama's Kitchen and see if I can learn anything. Should be exciting," Joe said with an exaggerated yawn.

Frank smirked. "Just to make sure you don't make it too exciting, I suggested to Arthur that he might like to tag along. You know, to keep you company."

Joe's face fell. "You didn't."

Arthur came bounding down the stairs dressed all in black, his face alight with excitement. He clapped Joe on the shoulder. "Shall I brew us a pot of coffee to keep us alert this evening?"

Frank pressed his lips together, brown eyes dancing with amusement. "I did. Have fun, bro!"

Within the hour, Joe was sitting in the shadows of a large oak tree in the park across the street from the diner, drinking coffee with Arthur. Besides being bored out of his mind, he had far too much time on his hands.

Time to worry about what was happening with Vanessa.

nhnhnhnhnhnh

Vanessa looked over the menu at Rodrigo Padovano. She had been surprised to find he was fairly good company. The small talk that had gotten them to this point of the evening hadn't been informative but it had been pleasant.

She closed her menu and set it aside as Rod did the same. His gaze was innocuous but Van still couldn't shake the unease she felt sitting here with him.

"So, Vanessa, you said you'll be leaving this weekend but you never did tell me what brought you and your brother to town in the first place."

"I'm trying to decide where to do my master's work in Information Technology. My father is just a tad over-protective and insisted on Joe coming with me while I was visiting the local colleges."

Vanessa was glad Nancy had insisted on rehearsing a background story. It had come out naturally – at least she thought it had. As Nancy had recommended, they had weaved the falsehoods around the truth. It had enough truth in it that it felt like she wasn't lying at all.

"Information Technology, huh? You have an undergrad already, I take it?"

"Yes. I received my undergrad from NYU and I've been working. But I kind of miss school and there are always new things on the horizon in the IT field."

"Must be fascinating. My undergrad is in business and I never had any desire to go back to school. Four years was more than enough for me."

Van laughed. "I have that debate with myself periodically too. I'm not totally convinced I want to go back to school but I guess I'm ready for something different. I like the Ithaca area. It would be a nice change from New York City."

Rod smiled and leaned forward. "Well, you certainly do improve the scenery around here. Tell me, is there anything I can do to sway your decision toward staying?"

"You already are," Vanessa said with a coy smile as the waitress appeared to take their orders. Rod ordered a bottle of wine to go with their selected meals.

"So Kiki said you were going to take over from your father soon. Do you plan to make changes at Mama's Kitchen once you're in charge?"

"Mama's Kitchen is only one of several diners my father owns. It's a pretty successful little chain in the area. I doubt I'll make any immediate changes."

"Oh, Joe asked me to find out when Kiki's working next. I think he wants to ask her out," Vanessa said.

She took a sip of water to cover her nervousness at the fib. Rod shifted.

"I'm afraid Kiki isn't working at the diner any longer. She lives in town, though. If Joe is really interested I can give him her home phone."

"I think he would like that," Vanessa said. "He seems really smitten."

"Kiki is a pretty girl. Not nearly as pretty as you, though."

Their salad was delivered and Vanessa used the break from conversation to take a breath and calm her nerves.

She decided to try again as their salad dishes were cleared. "Why isn't Kiki working at the diner any more?"

Rod picked up his knife and began tapping it on the table. "That's not really any of your concern."

Vanessa did as Nancy had coached. She tried to distract him. She leaned forward and pouted, batting her eyes at him.

"I'm sorry, Rod. I didn't mean to be nosy. I was just curious. I mean, she seemed like a great waitress."

His eyes strayed from her face to her chest and back up. Dropping the knife on the table, he sat back and shrugged.

"It didn't have anything to do with the quality of her work. My father had already hired a couple of new waitresses. I didn't realize it when I hired her. We were overstaffed so I had to let her go. It was a . . . simple miscommunication."

"Is Lori one of the new waitresses?"

"Yes."

"She seemed nice enough though I only spoke to her for a moment. Is she from Richford, too?"

"No, she's not," Rod replied, his tone clipped.

"Do you usually hire waitresses from out of town?"

"I don't know. I suppose we do."

"Do you have a lot of turn over?"

"It's an entry level job so there tends to be quite a bit of turn over but Pops has things set up to help keep the girls happy – he provides inexpensive room and partial board as well as paying a decent wage in addition to the tips they earn." Rod shook his head. "Why are you asking all these questions about the diner, anyway?"

Van frowned. "Kiki told us you were going to be taking it over soon and I just wanted to show some interest in what you do. I'm sorry if it's annoying you."

Rod sighed. "You aren't annoying me. I guess it's just . . . I'm not really thrilled with the prospect of taking over the old man's business, but I'm not sure I have a whole lot of choice."

"We all have choices, Rod," Vanessa said. "What do you want to do?"

"I don't know. I guess I've never really thought about it. At this point I'd like to do just about anything but what Pops does."

Vanessa looked across the table at Rod. He was staring at his plate, pushing the food around but not really eating.

"Is running the diner . . . or rather chain of diners so terrible?"

Rod shook his head. "I grew up in the diners – I don't really mind them I suppose. It's just . . . I don't know, it just feels like I don't really have any say in it. Know what I mean?"

"So you're going to do what's expected of you even though you don't really want to?" Vanessa asked. "That sounds kind of . . . cowardly."

Leaning forward Rod fixed his dark eyes on Vanessa and snapped, "You don't know what you're talking about. You don't know what it's like to be raised to do something. This business of my father's is – it's a way of life. It's not something you walk away from casually."

Vanessa recoiled from the anger she recognized in Rod's eyes.

"I didn't realize the diner business was so intense," she whispered.

Rod snorted and sat back. "You have no idea."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to insult you. I just hate to see anyone being forced to do something they obviously don't want to. Can't you talk to your father? Tell him what _you_ want."

Rod pursed his lips as he fingered the stem of his wine glass. "It isn't that easy, Vanessa, so just drop it, ok?"

She watched as Rod downed the rest of his wine and poured himself another glass. She felt sorry for him.

"Consider it dropped," she said firmly. "What do you do for fun around here, anyway?"

"You mean besides eat and drink?" Rod said with a slight smile.

"Well, I for one can only eat and drink so much," Vanessa said with a playful grin. "Is there somewhere we could go after dinner to dance? We're a little over-dressed but we could go see a movie instead, if you'd prefer."

"There is a bar nearby that usually has some decent live music and a little dance floor. If you don't mind country."

"That sounds great!" Vanessa said, though inwardly she cringed. Country music was not her thing.

She really hoped he wouldn't expect her to line dance.

NH

A/N: Big smiles :D to my reviewers last chapter: angry penguin (thanks for catching up!), Confidential Brunette, JackO'NeillIsTheMan, and smilingspaz (thanks, I was a little worried about going over the top, truth be told). Many thanks to JackieJacks, too, I'm really enjoying our conversation! I also appreciate those who put the story on alert or favorite.


	20. Chapter 19

Disclaimer: I don't own Nancy Drew or the Hardy Boys. The OCs are all mine, for better or worse.

Happy reading!

**Chapter 19: Distractions & Discussions**

Nancy slid next to Frank as he put the car in park. He had pulled up to the curb a couple of houses down from the Lavender Lady just as Rod was walking Vanessa up the front walk to deliver her home. While they watched, Rod's hand wandered from Van's waist down to her butt.

"It's a good thing you sent Joe out on surveillance," Nancy said.

Frank grunted in response and Nancy suppressed a chuckle. He was only marginally less protective of Vanessa than Joe was.

Rod and Van's date had continued after dinner at a country and western bar within walking distance of the restaurant. The bar had been loud and rowdy – hardly the kind of place that lent itself to conversation. All in all the entire evening had been a bust.

But Vanessa had convinced Rod that he should arrange a double-date for lunch tomorrow so that Joe could get a chance with Kiki. Rod had seemed less than enthusiastic about the idea but when Vanessa insisted it was the only way she would be able to go out with him again, he had agreed.

Now Van was trying desperately to end the evening on a friendly note – just not too friendly. Nancy felt Frank stiffen next to her as Rod maneuvered Vanessa into a corner of the porch, obviously angling for a goodnight kiss.

"What a leech," Frank muttered.

Nancy patted his leg. "I think Vanessa can handle herself in this situation, honey."

At that moment Vanessa managed to duck out of Rod's trap, gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and slipped into the house. Rod stood on the empty porch for a few seconds, apparently trying to figure out how he had lost his quarry. Finally he jogged back out to his car.

"Here he comes," Frank said.

He lowered his arm off the back of the car seat to circle Nancy's shoulders, turning so he could cover her mouth with his as the headlights from Rod's car swung over their position. Despite the fact that it was part of their plan for avoiding detection, Nancy lost herself in the kiss.

She allowed her fingers to tangle in his hair as he pulled her closer. Sliding his hand up her thigh, Frank was awakening every nerve to his touch and pushing the task of the evening further and further from her mind. Their lips locked together, soft but insistent, and though Rod Padovano was long gone neither of them noticed.

It was Nancy that finally broke the contact, sliding herself over into the passenger seat to put some space between them. Frank pushed himself back behind the wheel and took a deep breath.

"I guess Joe was right to be worried about me becoming distracted," he said with a rueful smile.

"You and me, both," Nancy agreed. She still felt tingly all over. All it would take was one more touch and she knew she would melt.

He started the car. "I suppose we should head in. I need to call Joe and see if he's found anything out at Mama's Kitchen."

"And I should check on Vanessa." Nancy looked up at the house.

She felt Frank's fingers lace into hers and squeeze. She turned to find him looking at her, the emotion in his dark eyes enough to make her heart start racing again.

"We'll have to pick up our previous conversation a little later."

"When we're done with work," Nancy said firmly.

She gently extracted her fingers from his. Frank pulled into the drive, parked and then met her at the back of the car. His hand came to rest at the small of her back and even that light touch tested her resolve. As they walked up to the front porch, his breath tickled her ear, sending gooseflesh racing across her body.

"You have far more self-control then I do, Drew. I guess it's a good thing one of us does."

Nancy smiled and shook her head. "Control is an illusion."

"You're teasing me, sweetheart."

Nancy turned in the door and gave Frank a quick peck on the lips. "Don't think of it as a tease, think of it as a promise - _for later_."

She heard Frank groan as she turned and walked resolutely into the house. She forced herself straight up the stairs to check on Vanessa.

nhnhnhnhnhnh

Totally distracted from the case at this point, Frank followed Nancy in and watched as she moved up the stairs, wondering why he wasn't following her. As she disappeared into Vanessa and Joe's room he remembered what he was supposed to be doing. He pulled out his cell to call his brother.

The longer the phone rang, the more irritated Frank became. He was just about to hang up when the call was finally answered – by Arthur.

"Um, hello? This is, uh, Joe's phone –"

"Arthur, it's Frank. Where is Joe?"

"He's, uh, how do you say it – casing the place? Callisto Padovano left the diner about ten minutes ago and Joe went to check it out."

Frank had really hoped he could just tell his brother to call it a night. Unfortunately, Joe seemed to have other ideas. Events were conspiring to keep Frank from following Nancy up the stairs.

"You said he left about ten minutes ago?"

"About that, yes. Do you want me to go get him?"

"No! Arthur, you should just sit tight. When Joe gets back to the car, please have him call me."

"You're sure?"

"Yes. I'll see you soon."

Frank bid Arthur goodbye and trudged up the stairs to change out of his dress clothes. He was just putting on his tennis shoes when he heard a tap at the door. Nancy slipped inside a moment later.

"What did Joe say?"

"Joe didn't say anything. I talked to Arthur who said Joe was 'casing the place.'"

"Oh no."

"Oh, yes. He shouldn't be doing that without backup and I really don't think Arthur counts. I'm going to head over there –"

Nancy kicked off her sandals. "I'll go with you."

Frank sat up. "No! I mean . . . you should just . . . stay here. All I'm going to do is retrieve my wayward brother."

Nancy had already stripped off her dress and was pulling a t-shirt and jeans out of her bag. She turned and looked at him. "Tell me we aren't going to have this argument."

Distracted by Nancy's near-nudity, it took Frank a moment to remember what he had said. "It's not an argument. I'd call it more of a . . . discussion."

She pulled on her jeans. "Discussions don't usually begin with an imperative."

Frank stood and turned away from her purposely. He could not parry words with her effectively when she was half-dressed. He cleared his throat and threw his next comment over his shoulder.

"It's only an argument if you treat it that way."

He felt her hands on his shoulders, her tone goading. "Oh, so now I'm the one who's making it an argument."

She pressed by him and bent over to retrieve her shoes from under the bed. He shook his head to clear it.

"You're the one who said it was an argument . . . why are we arguing about this?" Frank ran his hands back through his hair.

When he managed to re-focus Nancy was standing there, shoes on her feet, looking up at him with a teasing smile. "Did you know you're adorable when you do that?"

"Do what?"

She reached up and ran her fingers through his hair. "Hm, it is rather calming."

His arms circled her slim waist of their own accord. "You're trying to distract me from our argument."

"Ha!" She gave him a triumphant smile as her fingers locked behind his neck. "You agree that this is an argument."

He shook his head. There was no way he was winning this little war of words. His mouth twitched into a smile. He wasn't sure he really cared aside from one thing.

"Fine. You win. It's an argument. I still think you should stay here."

Pulling her hands from around his neck, she pressed them flat against his chest as she pouted up at him. "Why?"

He sighed in defeat. "If I have to explain why I've probably already lost."

"That just means it was a lousy argument to begin with."

Her smile was almost worth the concession but if she was coming with him then by all rights it had hardly been an argument to begin with.

"Personally, I was just having a discussion."

"You don't start a discussion –"

"With an imperative. I know. Are you ready to go?"

She reached up and gave him a light kiss.

"All set. We should let Van know what's going on."

"Good. Maybe while you're at it, you can explain it to me."

"I love you."

"I love you, too. Which would be why I didn't really argue with you."

"I thought we were just having a discussion."

Frank shook his head as he followed her out of the room. "Now you're just playing with me."

nhnhnhnhnhnh

Vanessa rushed out of the bathroom to answer her ringing cell phone, anxious to hear Joe say he was alright.

"Joseph Hardy, why aren't you back yet?"

"Padovano just left a few minutes ago. How long have you been home?" Joe asked.

"Um, a while. Waiting for you."

"A while? How long is that? It's almost two in the morning."

Van sighed at the accusatory tone. "It doesn't matter, because all I thought about all evening was you. And then I get here and you aren't here. Do you know how disappointed I was?"

"I'll be there before you know it, babe. By the way, could you let Frank know I'm on my way back?"

"I can. Why?"

"Because I have a sneaking suspicion he's getting ready to come out here and he doesn't need to. I'm fine."

"Nancy said he was going to call you . . ."

"Well, I wasn't here when he called – Arthur answered."

Van clicked her tongue. "You should call your brother."

"I'd rather talk to you, babe," Joe said. "Just let Frank know that Arthur and I are on our way back."

"Fine, but you'll still have to deal with him once you get here."

"I'm kind of hoping Nan will distract him for me so I can avoid the lecture. Know what I mean?"

"Honestly, Joe. I thought you wanted Frank to come back and be your partner."

"I do, I just need to . . . ease back into it. He's been gone more often then not for the last couple years and I kinda forgot how over-protective and cautious he can be."

"Personally, I think you could use some over-protective and cautious," Van said. "You didn't do anything reckless tonight did you?"

"Of course not," Joe said.

"Why don't I believe you?" Van sighed. "You're lucky I love you, Joseph Hardy. I'll see you soon?"

"I am a lucky guy. We should be there in another twenty minutes or so. Love you, babe. Bye."

Van closed the phone just as a knock sounded on the door.

"Come in."

Nancy and Frank walked in a moment later, both changed into jeans and t-shirts.

"Are you two going somewhere?"

"We're going to join Arthur and Joe at the diner," Nancy said.

Van waved her cell at them. "I just talked to Joe. He said to tell you that he and Arthur are on their way back here."

Frank dropped into a chair with a sigh. "Good. I really didn't feel like heading back out tonight."

Nancy by contrast looked disappointed as she lowered herself onto the edge of the bed. "Did Joe say what he found?"

"He didn't tell me," Van said, feeling a little put-out. Joe shared a lot of things with her but his work was something he seemed compelled to 'protect' her from.

"He'll fill us in when he gets back." Frank looked like he was asleep in the chair but obviously he was listening.

Van noticed that Nancy was watching Frank, mouth cocked off to one side as if weighing something in her mind. She sat like that for several seconds before speaking again.

"I have an idea," she said tentatively.

Frank's eyes popped open. "What kind of idea?"

"A way we might be able to find out what's going on at Mama's Kitchen more quickly then with stake outs."

"Ok. But for the record, if I use an imperative after hearing this idea of yours it doesn't necessarily mean I want to argue – just discuss."

Frank's expression was comically resigned as he looked at his fiancée. Van stifled a laugh as Nancy crossed her arms and glared at him.

"It sounds to me like you've already decided you don't like my idea and you haven't even heard it yet, Mr. Pessimistic"

Frank shrugged and closed his eyes again. Nancy gave an irritated grunt.

They sat in silence for several seconds again. Then, without moving Frank asked, "Well, are you going to share your idea or not?"

"I'm going to wait until Joe gets here."

This time when Frank's eyes opened, he sat forward and looked at Nancy intently. "See, I'm right to be pessimistic. You're just waiting for Joe so it's two against one in favor of some reckless plan."

Van raised a hand. "For the record, I'm against recklessness, too. Though I know my vote doesn't really count."

Nancy turned an obviously conflicted look on Van, who was immediately sorry she had chimed in. Nancy had been very supportive of her tonight when Joe was being such a jerk about her being involved in the investigation. Van felt like she had just turned against her greatest supporter.

"You're both making assumptions about an idea you haven't even heard yet and which in my opinion is not reckless but is expeditious. For your information, the reason I want to wait for Joe is because I don't feel like repeating myself." Nancy turned an apologetic look on Vanessa. "And of course your vote counts, Vanessa. You're as much a part of this as the rest of us. I really appreciate your help. Really."

"I'm sorry too, Vanessa. I didn't mean to exclude you," Frank said earnestly.

Van nodded her acceptance of the apologies. "At least you two have stopped sniping at each other."

"Actually, we're just continuing an earlier _discussion_," Nancy said with a slight smile.

Frank leaned his head back with a grunt. "Make up your mind, sweetheart. Is it a discussion or an argument?"

Nancy's gaze was openly affectionate as she looked at Frank and waved a dismissive hand. "It's all semantics. But to be honest, I think I would like Joe here to even my odds a bit."

Vanessa stood. "Well, I think we should take this downstairs. I could use a cup of hot tea to wind down after this evening."

nhnhnhnhnhnh

By the time Joe and Arthur arrived at the Lavender Lady, Frank, Nancy and Vanessa were sitting around the kitchen table talking idly about what they had learned.

"You didn't have to wait up for me," Joe said.

"Yes we did," Nancy said.

"Nan wanted you here before pitching this idea of hers," Frank said with a smirk.

Joe raised an eyebrow at his soon-to-be sister-in-law. "Sounds promising. I can't wait to hear it."

"Joe thinks it sounds promising. Now I'm even more worried." Frank jerked. "Ow!"

"That's for being a smart ass," Nancy said. "You had better approach the coming _discussion_ with a more open mind or you are going to have an argument on your hands."

Joe retrieved a beer out of the refrigerator and dropped into a chair across from his brother. "Sounds like Frank better step lightly or he might be sleeping on the couch."

"That's an idea," Nancy said.

Frank looked suitably brow-beaten. "Alright, my mind is open. Let's hear your idea, Nan."

"I think we should hear about Joe's evening, first," Nancy said.

"The way you keep delaying the inevitable has me thinking this idea of yours must be a doozie," Frank said and then grunted and sat forward, glaring at Nancy. "I'm gonna be black and blue if you keep that up."

"I can't see even a glimmer of light through that open mind of yours," Nancy said irritably.

Joe decided to give his brother a reprieve.

"Well, it won't take me long to tell you what I learned anyway. Mama's Kitchen is incredibly slow as far as business this time of year. There were a total of fifteen customers between 6 p.m. and midnight – most over the age of fifty. There was one waitress working tonight plus the cook. The cook left around twelve thirty. Callisto Padovano escorted the waitress to a room at the little motel behind the diner about the same time – looked like she might be living there. He didn't go in, though. He headed back to the office at the diner and stayed for about an hour and a half and then left and headed east toward the outskirts of Richford. I considered following him but figured he was just going home. So instead I checked out the diner security."

Joe held up a hand to stop Frank from interrupting him. "Purely for future planning purposes. During that little expedition, I learned that the place is protected like Fort Knox which I think is pretty telling. Oh, and for the record, one thermos of coffee is not nearly enough for both Arthur and me. So what about you three – did you learn anything exciting?"

Vanessa shook her head. "It certainly didn't seem like we learned much. All I really gleaned from the evening was that Rod isn't thrilled about taking over his father's business. However, I did manage to get another date arranged – a double date with you and Kiki."

Joe pressed his lips together, stifling the automatic protest. At least he'd be with her on this date. "When?"

"Tomorrow for lunch. Rod called Kiki and she was all for it. She said she knew you were interested after the way you flirted with her."

"I did not flirt with her!"

"Keep telling yourself that, Joe," Van said with a smug smile.

"I did not –"

Van waved a hand to stop him, "As scintillating as this conversation is, I'm kind of anxious to hear Nan's idea."

"Me, too," Frank said.

"Ok with me," Joe said. "But for the record, I wasn't flirting."

"I honestly don't know how you can deny flirting with a straight face, Joe," Nancy said.

Joe waved a finger at her.

"You best be remembering who's on your side, little sister."

NH

A/N: THANKS! To my reviewers last chapter: SeveredWasp, Agent Striker (lazy, lazy – lol), JackieJacks, smilingspaz, JackO'NeillIsTheMan, Confidential Brunette, Jabba1, and unidentified reviewer (thanks for your kind words!). I also appreciate those who put the story on alert or favorite. Until Friday night . . . :)


	21. Chapter 20

Disclaimer: I don't own Nancy Drew or the Hardy Boys. The OCs are all mine, for what that's worth.

It's a bonus day – this is an extra-long chapter.

Happy reading!

**Chapter 20: Plan****s & Plots **

Nancy glanced around the table. Joe's eager smile contrasted with Vanessa's studiously neutral expression but as usual it was Frank's dubious, dark-eyed gaze that caught her attention.

She cleared her throat and looked pointedly away from him. "We agree that whatever is going on at Mama's Kitchen involves exploiting young women. What we need is a young woman who is easily exploitable – a young woman who is unconnected, isolated and perhaps a little desperate to find a job and a place to live."

Several beats of tense silence followed as Vanessa and Joe glanced first at one another and then at Frank, waiting expectantly. Personally, Nancy was afraid to chance it – Frank was bound to be disapproving.

"Someone like you?" His tone was carefully controlled.

Joe snickered. "Well, bro, I don't think you can do it."

Vanessa interjected hastily, "Based on what I overheard they only hire through TNT, whoever that is."

"Turner Networking Temps," Frank said.

Nancy's eyes widened and she finally turned to look at him. "When did you figure that out?"

"Joe and I were rehashing everything earlier and the connection clicked," Frank said.

"Yeah," Joe said. "They even have a quarter-page ad in the yellow pages saying that they're dynamite at finding placements for anyone regardless of experience level."

Nancy was nodding thoughtfully. "That's even better. I can go talk to Pru, ask her to refer me to Turner's and provide a light cover story."

"What do you plan to tell Ms. Lawson to convince her to help?" Frank asked.

"I'll tell her the truth," Nancy said. "She'll have a vested interest in finding out what happened."

"Are you going in as yourself?" Joe asked.

"No, I thought maybe Nancy Morgan?" A slight shake of Frank's head had Nancy quickly modifying the last name. "Er, perhaps Miller? The last name doesn't really matter."

"Miller would work. You'll need documents, though," Frank said. "Joe –"

Joe sat forward, blue eyes alight with enthusiasm. "I have the stuff to mock up a driver's license and I'm sure Anna and Arthur would be willing to play the part of your foster parents – that gives us an Ithaca address."

Frank sat back, kneading his lower lip thoughtfully for several seconds before giving a curt nod.

"I can probably pull together a birth certificate. You can tell them you lost your social security card. That's plausible enough. I just hope they don't do background checks or we'll be screwed."

Nancy looked at Frank, eyes wide. "Is that it?"

"Yeah, bro. Are you feeling alright?" Joe's blue eyes danced with amusement.

Vanessa chuckled. "I must admit, when I heard the plan I figured for sure you'd put up way more of a fight, Frank."

"I'd tell you why I think it's a bad idea but you all know what I'd say so why waste my breath," Frank grumbled.

Nancy put an arm around his shoulders and leaned in to plant a kiss on his cheek. "Thank you."

He glanced sideways at her. "That doesn't mean I'm thrilled with the idea. But it probably is the fastest way to learn what we want to know and you're really the only option for our insider."

"That is my ever-logical brother talking. Now where is the over-protective part of the lecture?"

"The over-protective part comes tomorrow after I've had a chance to sleep on it. Sleep being the operative word. I can't think straight right now." As if to emphasize his point, Frank was overcome by a big yawn.

Joe stood from the table, a knowing smile on his face. "Yeah, I'm sure sleep is the only thing you have in mind."

Frank's voice rang with finality. "Good night, little brother."

"C'mon, Van. Let's hit the hay. I am pretty tired." Joe took Vanessa's hand and led her out of the kitchen.

Nancy cleared the few cups they had dirtied from the table and loaded them into the dishwasher. When she finished she could feel the heat from Frank's body. She turned to find him standing close behind her.

Looking up into his eyes she felt her heart rate increase. His eyes tended to reflect his mind-set – golden brown usually meant a light-hearted Frank, whereas more of a chocolate brown meant he was feeling mellow. Right now, his eyes were dark umber and burned with an intensity that warmed her from head to toe.

He hadn't even touched her yet but she knew he would and just the thought of it made her feel a little weak in the knees. His voice was low and husky when he spoke.

"Are you ready to resume our earlier conversation?"

Her shoulders slumped. He didn't really want to get into that again, did he?

"Our argument or our discussion?" She asked, irritation overshadowing her attempt at a light tone.

He smiled and moved closer. "Earlier."

"Earlier?" Nancy felt very confused as Frank leaned down, his lips whispering along her jaw line.

"In the car," he whispered in her ear.

"Oh!" Nancy managed just before Frank silenced any further discussion.

She lost herself in the kiss for several minutes. Eventually the fact that they were standing in the kitchen of a very nice elderly couple began to temper the passion that Frank was forging. She managed to gather enough of her wits about her to slip out of his embrace and put some distance between them.

She turned to find Frank watching her with a predatory intensity that she found very evocative. Still, they were in Anna and Arthur's kitchen.

"I think we should take this conversation upstairs," she said, trying for a firm tone and failing miserably.

"Probably," Frank said even as he closed the distance again.

Nancy grabbed a chair from behind her to use as a barrier between them and pointed a finger at her fiancé.

"Frank Hardy, you had better behave yourself."

She would have described his responding grin as lewd on any other man but she just couldn't think of Frank that way. He had always been so self-controlled and proper. It was difficult to reconcile the Frank she had been friends and colleagues with for so many years with the lover that he had become over the last couple of months. This side of Frank was fun and exciting and more than a little disconcerting.

He caught the finger wagging at him and engulfed her hand in one of his while he pushed the chair out of the way. His arm pinned her to him as the chair skidded away.

"I always behave myself. With you it's nice to be able to let loose."

"Yes . . ." Nancy whispered and then shook her head adamantly. "But not in Anna and Arthur's kitchen! Let's go upstairs."

"Joe says we make too much noise," Frank said teasingly.

Nancy felt her cheeks flame. "He couldn't hear us . . . could he?"

"Who cares?"

He lowered his head and bypassed her lips, kissing and nipping from just below her ear to the collar of her t-shirt. His lips settled in the curve of her neck. Nancy was preoccupied by the sensations until she felt her bra spring loose and realized that both of Frank's hands were under her t-shirt.

"Frank, not here."

"No, not here," Frank said, chuckling. "I just want to turn you on. Then I'll take you upstairs to finish the job properly."

"Mission accomplished. Let's go upstairs," Nancy said breathlessly.

Frank planted his hands on the table Nancy was leaning on and looked in her face. "Did I ever tell you that you're cute when you're cornered?"

Nancy sighed but couldn't keep the smile off her face. "You are an evil, evil man. Why did I never see this side of you before, oh, about two months ago?"

He brought a hand up to cup her face and ran a gentle thumb over her cheek. "Sweetheart, you are the only person who has ever seen this side of me."

"The only one? You mean to tell me –" She stopped herself. Do you really want to bring Callie into this conversation? She could have kicked herself.

But Frank's responding smile was soft and affectionate and Nancy was reminded why she had fallen in love with him despite a concerted effort not to.

"The only one. I've never felt comfortable enough with anyone else to let loose like I do with you, Nan." He leaned in and kissed her – a soft, loving kiss full of promise. Then he pulled back and looked at her intently. "Not even Callie."

Nancy could read the truth in his eyes and she knew she felt the same. What she had had with Ned could never compare to the wholly encompassing bond she and Frank shared. She grimaced at the unpleasant reminder of her ex. At some point she was going to have to return his phone calls.

Looking for a distraction from the unsettling thoughts, she slipped her hands up Frank's chest and pulled him down for another kiss.

As the kiss ended she whispered, "I love you so much, Frank."

A moment later he scooped her up into his arms.

"It is definitely time to take this upstairs."

nhnhnhnhnhnh

Morning sunlight shone through the window and sent shafts of gold glinting off Nancy's tousled hair. Frank watched her sleep, her peaceful countenance a stark contrast to his churning thoughts. Despite a determined effort to figure out some other way to short circuit the investigation he was coming up empty-handed.

He finally decided he should just admit defeat and get to work on making sure that Nancy's plan could be executed safely. He kissed her forehead before slipping out of bed. Within fifteen minutes he was showered, dressed and headed downstairs with his backpack.

He set up his laptop, portable printer and handheld scanner at the kitchen table and went to work. Anna came in from outside and made a pot of coffee. Frank accepted a cup gratefully.

He laid out the bare bones of the plan and Anna readily agreed to be Nancy Miller's foster mother. She was also able to help him by providing an original birth certificate for her daughter, who had died shortly after her pre-mature birth. It provided the perfect base to forge documents for Nancy's undercover identity.

By the time Nancy came downstairs at nearly ten o'clock, Frank had the birth certificate just about done.

"How long have you been up?" Nancy asked as she opened the cupboard to retrieve a cup.

"A couple of hours," Frank said. "You were dead to the world."

"You wore me out last night," she said teasingly and then yawned.

He slid out from behind the kitchen table and joined her by the coffee maker. While she poured herself a cup of coffee he snaked his arms around her, nudging her hair out of the way so he could nuzzle her neck. Nancy giggled and squirmed in his embrace until a chuckle from the open back door caught their attention. They turned to find Anna smiling at them.

"Don't stop on my account. Heaven knows you might find Arthur and I in much the same pose at times." She clucked at the surprise she must have recognized in their faces. "Oh, we're old, not dead. We still enjoy one another a great deal."

Frank smiled at Anna but his attention returned to Nancy, as it inevitably did when she was within sight. Her cheeks were bright pink but her blue eyes twinkled with amusement. She squeezed Frank's hand and then slipped past him to go to the table with her coffee.

"Anna, I hope we're half as active as you and Arthur when we get to your age," she said warmly.

"Definitely," Frank agreed.

"So, Frank," Anna said, coming through the screen door. "Did you finish what you were working on?"

Nancy picked up one of the draft copies he had printed out. "You could make a killing forging documents, honey."

"I learned all of the latest forging techniques and their flaws in one of my classes," Frank said. "I'm going to have to find a better printer to make documents that you can actually use, though. This is a thermal printer and it just isn't going to cut it."

Anna sat down next to Nancy. "Arthur has a very nice printer in the office that you can use, Frank. He even has some good paper if that would help."

"Thanks, Anna – that will be a huge help," Frank said. Turning to Nancy, he added, "Were Joe and Van up yet?"

"The shower was running shortly after I got out so at least one of them is moving," Nancy said.

"In that case, I should get breakfast started. Or perhaps we should call it brunch," Anna said.

Standing, Nancy said, "Let me help you, Anna."

The elderly woman smiled at her, "Well, you are part of the family now, after all. I would love the help, Nancy."

Frank unhooked his laptop. "I think I'm going to head to the office. Which room is it, Anna?"

"It's just the other side of the entryway. I think Arthur is in there. He'll be able to show you where everything is."

Frank jumped in surprise when Nancy pinched him on the butt as he moved past her and out of the kitchen.

Darn, why hadn't he thought of that?

nhnhnhnhnhnh

"I'll see you downstairs, babe."

Joe dropped a kiss on Vanessa's cheek and grabbed his backpack before heading out of their room.

His brother was walking past the bottom of the stairs when he entered the hallway above. "Hey, Frank. Where're you going?"

He jogged down the stairs and met his brother in the entryway.

"To use Arthur's printer. I have Nancy Miller's birth certificate mocked up and ready to print."

"I'm going to get Nan's driver's license. We can use it to make a fake ID."

A few minutes later he and Frank were wired into Arthur's office equipment and hard at work. Arthur was thrilled to be able to help and brought out all of his photo mounting and preservation equipment. He even had a laminating machine and offered his own Ithaca driver's license as a template.

By the time Nancy and Anna had brunch ready, Nancy Miller had become a real live person with an Ithaca driver's license and birth certificate. Frank had even developed a skeleton background story.

The mood at brunch was intense as Frank went over Nancy's cover story in detail – several times. Joe gave an exasperated grunt as his brother started reviewing it yet again.

"Frank, this is Nancy Drew you're talking to, remember? She had the cover down the first time you went through it, let alone the second, third and fourth. Give it a rest already!"

"I hate to be a wet blanket here but –," Van stopped as all eyes turned to her. "Well, I know Nancy is anxious to learn about her mother but we have other obligations this weekend. Laura has the landscapers scheduled, we have dress fittings planned with friends coming into town to attend, and the guys have tux measurements. We can't really stay here all weekend. It's Friday and we really should be headed back to Bayport no later than this afternoon."

Nancy's face fell. "Van's right."

Frank squeezed Nancy's hand. "So we go back to Bayport for the weekend. It will give us a chance to find out what Dad's learned about the Padovanos and TNT. We'll be more prepared."

"Frank, your defense is scheduled for next Wednesday," Nancy said.

"I'll delay my defense a week or two."

"And knock right up against our wedding date," Joe said.

Frank shot his brother a withering look. "So I'll delay until after the wedding. It's not that critical."

Nancy was playing with the food on her plate. "Actually, if there's anything that isn't critical, it's my mother's murder. She's been dead almost twenty years. What are a few more weeks?"

Van shook her head. "You need to know the truth, Nan. Besides, this isn't just about your mother's murder any more. Whatever is going on at Mama's Kitchen, it's been going on far too long already. We need to put an end to it."

Joe stared at his fiancée, feeling a mixture of admiration and irritation. He knew he was being stubborn but he didn't want her involved. Still, he was proud of the fact that she felt as compelled to catch the bad guys as the rest of them.

"Van's right, again," he said grudgingly. "We need to put an end to this."

"We're in agreement then," Frank said. "We'll go to Bayport for the weekend and then be back in Ithaca on Monday to continue the investigation."

"To put the plan in motion," Nancy said.

Frank shrugged. "Maybe we'll come up with a better option than putting you undercover."

Nancy opened her mouth to protest but Vanessa cut in.

"The weekend won't be a total loss, anyway. After the fitting Saturday, Nancy and I can look up Sara Fields and talk to her – she was Amy Morgan's friend and she lives on Long Island now."

Joe sat up and turned to Arthur and Anna who were looking on proudly at the four young people.

"Is it going to be a problem if we crash here again next week? You don't have other boarders coming in do you, Anna?"

Anna smiled. "Well, we do have folks coming in for the weekend but we'll be empty come Monday. You are all more than welcome to stay again next week."

"Just think, Anna," Arthur beamed. "We're like command central for their little operation. How thrilling! I'm going to have to break out the camera and begin documenting."

Arthur pushed away from the table and rushed toward the office.

Joe and Frank exchanged an amused glance.

Joe said, "Van and I still have our lunch date."

"And before we leave, we should at least talk to Pru Lawson about our plan," Nancy said. "I'd also like to talk to Jim Bowers today."

"If we fly back together we should be ok if we leave by four this afternoon," Frank said. "Mom doesn't usually have dinner ready until seven anyway. That gives us time to lay some groundwork so we can hit the ground running on Monday when we come back."

"So it's settled," Joe said. "We'll meet back here around three or three thirty and head to Tompkins."

nhnhnhnhnhnh

"Hi, Kiki! It's so great to see you again!"

Vanessa hoped she didn't sound overly enthusiastic. It was awkward to be watching your fiancé begin a blind date with a woman you yourself set him up with. No, 'awkward' wasn't the word. Maybe 'insane' better captured the reality.

She turned resolutely forward but not before she saw Kiki slide tight against Joe's side and plant a kiss on his cheek. She had always been steadfastly secure in her relationship with Joe and able to ignore his incessant flirting. Even so, this 'double date' they were on was going to be difficult.

"Where are we going for lunch?" Joe asked.

"Anywhere but Mama's Kitchen," Rod said.

Kiki giggled and Vanessa gritted her teeth and managed to grin at Rod. She hated those girly little flirty giggles – especially when they were directed at Joe.

"We could go into the city and find someplace," Vanessa suggested.

It felt like a very long drive to Vanessa, listening to Kiki and Joe in the back seat. Vanessa let Rod take her hand and smiled at him but they didn't really talk. The sounds from the back must have gotten to Rod, too, because he finally turned up the radio – on country. Vanessa sighed. She wasn't sure which was worse. They arrived at a chain Tex-mex restaurant less than twenty minutes later and Van stepped out of the car in relief.

They were seated at a booth for four and had their meals ordered within minutes. Vanessa had thought it was bad listening to Kiki and Joe in the back seat but it was worse having to both watch and listen. Kiki hung all over him and Joe played his part pretty convincingly. Vanessa couldn't help but think that he was paying her back for the last day or so. Two could play at that game.

She slid close to Rod and took his hand. "Isn't this fun? It's been ages since Joe and I have gone on a double date."

"You do this kind of thing a lot?" Rod asked.

"We used to when we were younger," Joe said.

"There's a year difference between us but Joe was held back a year and we went all through high school in the same class."

Joe grunted. "Thanks, sis. That's just what I want a girl to learn on a first date – that I got held back a year."

Waving a dismissive hand, Van said, "Well, it's only because that math teacher didn't like you."

"Yeah, the math teacher, the English teacher, the science teacher – they were all out to get me that year." Joe gave Kiki a roguish grin. "Of course, it helps if you actually show up for class."

"I thought Mom and Dad were gonna have a cow," Vanessa said. "Good thing you cleaned up your act after that."

Joe grimaced. "It was embarrassing enough being in the same grade as my baby sister let alone a grade behind her."

"What do you do for a living, Joe?" Rod asked.

"I work for the old man in his grocery business," Joe said and scowled. "I hate it."

Rod smirked. "I know where you're coming from, man."

"Yeah but at least you got away for college," Joe said. "I started straight out of high school. Dad made me get my associates degree after hours."

"That's the pits," Rod said. "Van got out, though."

"That's because I know how to say 'no,'" Vanessa said.

Joe exchanged a smirk with Rod who said, "She seems to think it's pretty easy."

"Yeah, well, she is Daddy's little princess. It never is that easy for the son, is it Rod?" Joe grinned at Rod and held up a fist.

Knocking knuckles with Joe, Rod returned the smile. "Definitely not, brother."

Kiki stood. "I need to go freshen up. When I come back I think we should skip past all this serious talk and figure out what we're gonna do for some fun."

Vanessa nudged Rod, "I need to powder, too."

Joe took Kiki's hand and pulled her down for a light kiss. "I promise – no more serious talk when you get back, beautiful."

With a wide smile, Vanessa bent down and gave Rod a kiss on the cheek before turning to follow Kiki.

"Your brother is so darn cute!" Kiki said, tucking her arm into Vanessa's as they wound their way to the women's bathroom. Van managed a tight smile in response.

They walked into the empty bathroom and Kiki ran straight to an empty stall. "I have to pee."

Van walked to the sink and extracted a compact and lipstick out of her handbag, more to have something to do than for any real purpose.

Glancing back at Kiki's feet under the stall, Vanessa ventured a leading question. "I was kind of surprised you agreed to come out to lunch today, Kiki. Especially after Rod told me he had to fire you."

"Well, it's not like he did it because I did a bad job," Kiki said. "I was pretty pissed. Not really surprised, though. I mean, I was the first local girl they'd hired at the diner in ages. I guess I should have been more surprised that I was hired in the first place."

"I would think it would be way easier to hire local girls. I asked Rod about that too. Seems odd."

The stall opened and Kiki appeared, wiggling her butt to get the form-fitting mini-skirt down over her hips. "My dad says that the reason Callisto doesn't hire local girls is 'cause he knows he'd have fathers lined up at his door. Dad was really happy I lost that job."

"Why?" Vanessa tried for an innocent tone but feared it came off too nosy.

Kiki didn't seem to notice. "Don't get me wrong, Mr. Padovano doesn't like, prostitute the girls or anything. He definitely doesn't discourage them from hooking up with the college guys that come in, though. It's good for business, you know."

"I thought he treated the girls really well?" Vanessa feigned shock.

"Oh, he does – gives 'em a place to live, helps them with learning to live on their own. He even holds their hand when they get into trouble – if you know what I mean. But still, given the situation, I guess I'm just as glad to not be working there, either."

"Why is that?"

"I just couldn't help but be a little creeped out by what happened to that one girl. Especially when I worked that first night shift."

Van shook her head. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Kiki turned around and leaned a hip on the counter. "I forgot you aren't from around here. There was a girl, one of the waitresses from the diner, got herself killed. They found her body just outside of town about a month ago. Threw the whole town into a tizzy. My old man went nuts."

Vanessa leaned forward, looking at Kiki in shock. "Did they find out who killed her?"

"I heard they picked up the guy that knocked her up – some frat boy from Empire."

Kiki pushed off the counter and headed toward the door. "Poor girl was probably just like all the rest of us – looking for her Cinderella story – her own prince charming coming to whisk her away on a white horse. I felt really sorry for her."

Vanessa followed Kiki back to the table, chewing her lip. Frank wasn't going to like this news at all.

nhnhnhnhnhnh

The Law Advocates offices in Ithaca spoke of frugal opulence. The furnishings were high quality but well-worn and the entire décor had a comfortable shabbiness about it.

The receptionist sat behind a large, walnut desk, her bright clothing and blond and green streaked hair a surprise in such somber surroundings. She looked up as Frank and Nancy walked in.

"Hi there! I'm Willy. Can I help you?"

It took Frank a moment to get over the receptionist's wild appearance and by then Nancy was responding.

"Hi. I'm Nancy Drew and this is Frank Hardy. We're here to see Jim Bowers. Is he in?"

"He is!" Willy responded enthusiastically. "And I believe he is expecting you. Please have a seat and I'll let him know you're here."

She bounced her way to the farthest of three doors in the wall behind her desk and knocked. A muffled 'Come on in' greeted her and she threw the door open.

"Hey, Jim. Nancy Drew and Frank Hardy are here to see you. They're the folks Betty left a note about."

"Send them in, Willy."

The voice was deep and soothing and moments later they were face to face with the man attached to it. Jim Bowers was in his early fifties. His intelligent, world-weary brown eyes seemed incongruous in a round, boyish face under a shock of straw-like, sand-colored hair.

He waved them into the office. "Come in, come in. I've been expecting you."

As Nancy moved into the office, Frank noticed that Jim Bowers' eyes locked on her. Though he tried to hide it, Frank was sure he recognized a flicker of shock followed by something that set Frank's nerves on edge.

Nancy took the outstretched hand. "Mr. Bowers, it's nice to meet you. I'm Nancy Drew and this is my fiancé, Frank Hardy. We would like to ask you some questions."

The man barely glanced at Frank during their handshake. His grip was limp and sweaty and Frank had to stifle the urge to wipe his hand on his pants afterward.

Jim Bowers indicated the chairs in front of his desk. "Please, call me Jim. Pru called yesterday to tell me you'd be stopping by. And why."

Jim's face was tight and his gaze remained focused on Nancy as they all took seats.

Going into this interview Frank and Nancy had agreed that she would do most of the talking. Frank figured that was probably just as well given that Jim had barely spared him a glance. Knowing his gaze was likely just as intense of Jim's he was glad that the man seemed oblivious to his presence in the room. It would make his observation much easier.

"You know Ms. Lawson?" Nancy asked.

"Pru and I have known each other for years. She started with the state about the same time I started here."

"She's been very kind," Nancy said. "I'm really just trying to get to know my mother."

"I just can't believe that Liz is dead. How long ago . . . ?"

"Nineteen years this past spring," Nancy said.

"She died in the spring?"

"Yes, in late May, as a matter of fact."

"How?"

"She died of a drug overdose."

Jim's face was a mask of sympathy but when Nancy mentioned how her mother died, his wide eyes snapped to her face.

"Liz was taking drugs?"

"Prescription drugs. She had been suffering from depression," Nancy explained in an even tone.

"Did she . . . she didn't commit suicide?"

The intense sadness reflected in Jim Bowers' eyes could not be feigned. For the first time since their arrival, Frank felt some empathy for the man.

"Her death was ruled a self-inflicted overdose," Nancy said.

Keeping his eyes trained on Jim, Frank reached over and covered Nancy's hand with his to give it a comforting squeeze.

Jim ran his hands down his face as he sat back. Shock, dismay and sadness warred for dominance in his expression and he shook his head as if to clear it.

"I just can't believe it. Liz was always so upbeat. She was an amazing woman . . . um, an amazing kid when I knew her."

"She was sixteen when she worked here, right?" Nancy asked.

He nodded and blew out a breath. "You have to forgive me, Nancy. You . . . you look so much like Liz did when I knew her. It's a little – disconcerting."

It dawned on Frank why he had such a visceral reaction to the man at first. Jim Bowers had looked at Nancy and had seen Eliza Morgan – a young woman that he had once had feelings for.

"Everyone is always telling me how much I look like Mom," Nancy said.

His smile was soft as he nodded. "It's uncanny, really."

"Jim, I understand from Pru that you wanted to contact Mom after she moved on to her next foster home. Did you ever actually get in touch with her after she left your employ here?"

He steepled his hands in front of his face, his eyes shifting from studying his fingers to stealing furtive glances at Nancy. He couldn't seem to quite meet her inquisitive gaze.

In an abrupt movement, he stood and strode over to a credenza. Stooping down, he opened a side door and pulled out a journal bound in a camel-colored cloth binding that someone had decorated with hearts. Jim closed the cabinet and carried the book back to his desk. Laying his hands over it, he glanced up at Nancy uncertainly only to look back down at the book as he started talking.

"I was fresh out of law school, had just passed the bar. I decided early on in my schooling that I was going into public service. I was very enthusiastic about what I considered my calling – to help other kids like me, kids from the system. I hadn't been here long when Liz was hired as a receptionist. She was so serious – so intent on making a good impression, doing a good job. And she was so . . . beautiful."

Jim finally raised his eyes to gaze at Nancy and Frank felt a jolt of irrational jealousy.

"I was very fond of your mother, Nancy. It was totally inappropriate and I recognized that. But I just couldn't deny that I had feelings for her. For her part, Liz . . . well, I guess you'd say she had a crush on me. I mean, I was ten years older than her. At that time of your life, ten years might as well be a century."

"She was in love with you," Nancy said quietly.

He chuckled. "Oh, it was hardly a one way street. I was head over heels even if I did know in my head that it was inappropriate. Sometimes the heart has a mind of its own."

Picking up the journal, he handed it across the desk to Nancy. "Your mother left rather suddenly. Please don't think poorly of me when you read it. I truly cared about her and I think she left this for me as a . . . a show of trust."

Nancy laid the journal in her lap and looked at Jim thoughtfully. "You didn't answer my question, though. Did you have contact with my mother after she left Law Advocates?"

"Yes I did. Liz called a few weeks after I talked to Pru. She was embarrassed that she had left the journal. I told her the truth – I loved her, too. But I just couldn't risk my career by pursuing the relationship."

He pointed to the journal. "You can have that. Maybe it will help you get to know your mother a little better."

"Thank you, Jim. That means a lot." Nancy paused and then asked, "Did you ever actually _see_ Mom after she left Law Advocates?"

"We kept in touch by phone but we didn't get together again, no. I just didn't think it would be a good move for either one of us." Jim's tone was confident and steady but his eyes shifted as he spoke.

Frank's eyes narrowed and he sat forward, speaking for the first time, "You _never_ saw her again?"

Jim Bowers turned his gaze on Frank, expression suddenly guarded. "No. Now, I hate to chase you out but I'm due in court on a juvenile case in an hour and I really need to prepare."

Nancy and Frank stood and thanked him for his time. Outside, they stopped by the car so Nancy could drop off the journal before they went to see Prudence Lawson.

As Nancy closed the door, she sighed. "Jim Bowers seemed nice."

"Yeah, he was nice enough. And I think he really cared about your mother," Frank said. "But I am wondering one thing."

"What's that?"

"Why did he lie about seeing her again?"

Nancy pressed her lips into a thin line. "I don't know. I do think you're right, though. He was lying."

Frank pointed to a sandwich shop. "It's nearly two. Let's grab a sandwich and then head to Pru's office."

Fifteen minutes later they were in the waiting room of Children's Services. Frank was relieved when Pru came out to greet them less than five minutes after their arrival.

"Nancy, Frank, I'm so glad you came! I was going to call but now I don't have to. Please, come on back to my office."

Pru led them through a maze of corridors and cubicles to a closet-sized office.

"I know it's not much but around here, if you have a door, you have it made. Now to the reason I was going to call. I found the name of your mother's other friend – it was Mary Boroski. I checked the file and it turns out that Mary and your mom were about the same age. Grace was actually a couple years older. I don't know where Mary is now but . . ."

Pru held out a note card with a name and address on it. "I just happened to have kept Grace's Christmas card this past year. I actually kept hers because it included a photo of her first grandchild."

Frank glanced at the card. The address was in Rochester – too far for them to have time to follow up before heading back to Bayport. He tucked the card into his pocket.

"Thanks, Pru. That's a big help," Frank said. "But we actually stopped by to ask a favor."

"What can I do for you?" Pru asked with an open smile.

Frank held out a hand to Nancy. "It's your plan."

Nancy explained their suspicion about Mama's Kitchen and then outlined the basics of her plan. Pru's face reflected more and more concern as Nancy's narrative progressed.

She leaned forward. "Well, I don't have a problem giving you a referral. However, if I may make a suggestion? Tell them that you ran away from your last foster home about, maybe, a year ago and didn't graduate. That would explain your lack of a high school diploma and make it less likely that they'll request transcripts, which you can't produce. Tell them you tried to make it in New York City but ended up hitching back here. When they call, I can provide some vague backup."

"Anna and Arthur Haggerty have agreed to be my foster parents," Nancy said.

Pru made a note. "Ok. You should be all set then. Please let me know what you find out. I am very concerned to think that we may have inadvertently been providing fodder to these people. I thought Turners screened their employers better than that."

"Do you know the Turners?" Frank asked.

"Not personally but some of my colleagues speak very highly of them – particularly Tiffany. She was a foster kid in the Ithaca system – before my time, of course. She started the agency specifically to help kids like herself find work."

"Kind of like Jim Bowers," Frank said.

Pru looked surprised. "Hm, I never knew Jim Bowers was a foster kid. It's inspiring, really, how so many find their calling helping other foster kids. I think a couple of the social workers here were in the foster system at some point in time, too. And we have several foster families where one or the other of the parents is a former foster kid."

"It is inspiring," Frank agreed.

They left a few minutes later, thanking Pru Lawson for her time and her help. They made their way back to the Lavender Lady and met Joe and Vanessa.

Frank threw his and Nancy's bags into Joe's trunk and looked up the walk toward his brother. "Pick up the pace, Joe. It's almost four thirty. We need to get moving."

"I know," Joe sighed. "I'm just trying to come up with an excuse for Dad. Do you think he's over me lying to him about this trip, yet?"

"No," Frank said.

"Gee, thanks for the moral support, bro."

"Suck it up, little brother."

Joe made a face at him. "What? My genius older brother has absolutely nothing constructive to say?"

Frank smirked at Joe's glum expression.

"You might try the truth. And maybe a heartfelt apology."

NH

A/N: Thank you to those who reviewed last chapter: JackieJacks (insert Chapter 4 of PD at the end of the first scene ;), smilingspaz, Confidential Brunette, Unidentified Reviewer (big smiles for you, even if I don't know who you are), Karmadevi (sorry . . . but not too ;), Serveredwasp, and Agent Striker.

I also appreciate those who put the story on alert or favorite.


	22. Chapter 21

Disclaimer: I don't own Nancy Drew or the Hardy Boys. The OCs are all mine, for what that's worth.

This chapter is EXTRA-extra-long . . . I think I got carried away, LOL.

Happy reading!

**Chapter 21: ****Interpersonal Interaction**

Joe's dread increased the closer they got to Bayport Airfield. By the time Frank was turning the keys over to Jack Wayne, Joe felt physically ill. He really wasn't looking forward to facing his father.

Nancy and Frank had updated them about what they had learned on the way to the airport. Unfortunately, it was too difficult to communicate in flight so it wasn't until they were in the car and on their way to the Hardy home in Bayport that Vanessa and Joe finally got to share their story. It was a good distraction to get Joe's mind off of his impending doom.

He and Van could agree on one thing – they had done little beside confirm what they had already learned. Van started with relating what she had learned from Kiki during their bathroom interlude. It seemed to confirm that whatever con Callisto Padovano had going it definitely involved preying on the hopes of desperate young women looking for a prince charming.

The murder of the waitress, while provocative, seemed only loosely related considering that her boyfriend had been picked up for the murder. They couldn't agree on whether it was worth pursuing or not but decided they should at least have Frank and Joe's father check into it through official channels.

Joe had managed to forge a tenuous bond with Rod but hadn't really been able to pry any new information from him. "I'm hoping maybe next week I can take advantage of our connection and learn something. It could be almost as good an in as Nan going undercover. It's worth a try, anyway."

"If nothing else it could get you enough inside to keep an eye on Nan when she gets there," Frank said. "I'm still not thrilled with this plan. I think we need to learn more before we move forward."

"The whole point of the plan is to expedite the learning process," Nancy said evenly.

"You know what I mean, Nan. Don't be stubborn. We need to find out what Dad has learned on this end. Then we'll finalize plans for next week. At this point, nothing is set in stone – including your little undercover stint. If we can get what we want without it then I think we need to agree that we should take advantage."

"If we can do so in a timely manner," Nancy clarified.

"Your definition of timely or mine?" Frank asked.

"Mine."

Frank's jaw set. "You know, these discussions of ours have been decidedly one-sided lately. Are you even going to listen to reason?"

Joe snorted but was immediately sorry when he saw his brother's angry glare in the rearview mirror. "No freaking comment from the peanut gallery. This is serious. We take all information and incorporate it into our planning for next week. I'm not bending on this."

Joe held up his hands. "No argument here, bro."

"And you?" Frank glanced sideways at Nancy.

"Fine. But do not think you can bully me out of this, Frank Hardy."

"Fine."

"Fine."

Tense silence fell over the car for the rest of the drive. When they arrived at the Hardy home in Bayport, Joe took Van's hand and practically pulled her out of the car, anxious to escape before the fireworks started. He ended up watching curiously as Frank and Nancy approached one another in the drive. Neither of them said anything, they just moved together and embraced.

Vanessa dug an elbow into Joe's side. "What's wrong, haven't you ever seen two adults make up after an argument? I think we could learn a thing or two from them."

Joe grunted as he followed Van up the front walk. When his father appeared at the front door, he remembered why he had been dreading coming home.

"I'm glad to see you made it home in time for dinner," his father said evenly. His gaze shifted to Nancy and Frank still standing in the drive, talking. "Is everything ok?"

Joe looked back and nodded as he stopped next to Van on the front stoop. "It's fine. They just had an argument on the way home. What's for supper?"

"Your mother made pot roast. I think it should be ready shortly."

"I'm going to head in and see if Laura needs any help," Vanessa said, slipping past Joe's father and into the house.

Joe pressed his lips together and considered his father seriously. He had decided he should take his brother's advice and now was as good a time as any.

"Listen, Dad, I'm . . . well, I'm really sorry I lied to you about why we were going to Ithaca. It's just that Nan didn't want her dad to worry so I promised I wouldn't tell you –"

His father put an arm around his shoulders and guided him into the house. "Nancy already talked to me, Joseph. I appreciate the apology but I understand the circumstances. I'm not angry anymore."

"Good," Joe said in relief.

His father's grip tightened. "However, as I told Nancy in no uncertain terms, don't ever let it happen again. When something like this unfolds it's much better to get it out in the open. It's much safer, too."

Joe flashed a rueful smile. "Yes, sir."

Stopping by the door into his study, his father turned to face him with one hand still gripping his shoulder. "On a totally unrelated topic, I thought you'd like to know that you were right and I was wrong – Randy was not cheating on Carla."

It took Joe a moment to remember the infidelity case he had been working just before he left for Ithaca. It seemed like a long time ago. "Really? So who was that lady he was meeting?"

"An event planner," his dad chuckled as he crossed his arms. "Apparently Carla turns twenty-five next week and Randy wanted to throw her a big surprise birthday party."

"All of that over a surprise birthday party?" Joe shook his head in disgust. "I hope Carla feels like a real heel."

"Oh, she does. And when I gave her our bill and the report, I included a little bit of free advice – learn to trust your husband."

The door opened behind them and Nancy and Frank came through, hand in hand. His father glanced toward them, but spoke to all of them.

"I'd appreciate it if you could come into the office. Carson is waiting for us. I want a complete update on what you've been up to in Ithaca and I want to catch you up on what I've been able to piece together on this end."

Nancy's greeting to her father was distant and a little cold. Carson Drew's usually impeccable appearance was haggard – reminding Joe eerily of his brother on his first night in Ithaca. Mr. Drew listened silently while they recounted the events of the last several days. Joe's father interjected periodic, clarifying questions but for the most part listened quietly as well.

By the time they had finished going through what they had learned, Joe's mom had called them for dinner three times and was beginning to sound exasperated.

Fenton stood and nodded. "I think if I'd like to sleep in a warm bed tonight that we had better get to the dinner table. Meanwhile, you all need to try to relax. We'll pick this up later in the weekend after you've had a chance to rest."

Joe noticed that his father hung back as they exited the office. His dark eyes were fixed on Carson Drew and he looked decidedly worried. Looking forward, he could see similar concern reflected in the gaze his brother directed at Nancy.

Something told Joe that relaxation was going to be elusive this weekend.

nhnhnhnhnhnh

Nancy sat quietly beside Frank watching the antics around the Hardy dinner table. She had made a conscious decision to push her mother's murder from her mind and try to relax as Fenton had suggested. And as usual in the Hardy home she found herself feeling incredibly content.

Dinner in the Drew household was nearly always a quiet affair. She and her father would often just eat with Hannah in the kitchen. But with the Hardy family it was virtual chaos as food was devoured, jibes were exchanged and the company was enjoyed. She remembered all of her visits to the Hardys' being like this – always full of laughter and fun. She was a little overwhelmed to realize that she was going to become more than just a visitor in this family in just a few weeks.

They were crowded around the large dining room table – the Hardys - including Aunt Gertrude – along with Biff, George, Vanessa, Andrea, Nancy and her father. The table sat six comfortably, eight with a bit of crowding, but with nine of them packed around it, it was a bit stifling in the room.

Frank's arm lay across the back of her chair as he pushed his plate away. He and Joe had just finished sharing an embarrassing story about Biff with George. Biff just smirked at his friends across the table.

"Yeah, yuck it up, Hardy boys. You two are fodder for books. I have lots of arsenal in the embarrassing story bunker of my brain." He turned a warm grin on George. "How about you, hon?"

George had been quiet throughout dinner, but couldn't avoid the direct question. Her smile was uncharacteristically shy and tight as she glanced up at Biff through the veil of her dark eyelashes.

"Well, I've only been on a few cases with Frank and Joe, but I do have quite a few stories about Nancy I could share."

"George, you wouldn't rat me out, would you?" Nancy feigned shock.

George's face relaxed into a sincere smile when she looked at Nancy. "I said I _could_, Nan, not that I would."

Biff draped an arm over George's shoulders, kneading her neck. "Oh, given the right motivation I bet I could get you to spill the beans about your spunky little friend, hon."

Nancy wrinkled her nose at him, deciding it was time to put Biff in his place. "We talked about the 'spunky' thing before, Hooper."

"Yeah, she's not a freaking cheerleader. Remember?" Frank warned, his golden brown eyes crinkled in amusement.

Biff burst into laughter at the reminder of his first meeting with Nancy. "How could I forget!"

"Don't tick her off, Biff. I think she could take you," Joe snorted.

George raised an eyebrow at him, her tone serious. "Nan could definitely take you, Biff."

Laura stood from her place next to Fenton. "Based on the amount of chatter, I'm guessing everyone is done with dinner. Why don't we take this out back where there is more room! You boys are getting too big to all be at this dinner table at once."

"Next thing you know she'll be asking for a bigger table," Fenton said with a chuckle.

Laura shrugged. "We'll need a bigger dining room first, dear."

Everyone helped by taking their dishes into the kitchen. Frank deposited an entire stack of serving dishes in the sink and grabbed Nancy around the waist as she put her plate and cup on the counter.

Aunt Gertrude gave Frank a resounding thump on the shoulder as he bent over Nancy to nuzzle her neck.

"Franklin Dixon Hardy this is not a bedroom it is a kitchen!"

Carson chuckled. "He takes after his father."

"Now be fair," Fenton said. "I was never that forward with Laura in front of _her_ father."

"You're in trouble now," Nancy hissed at Frank as she pushed him toward the back door.

"Sorry, Aunt Gertrude, Carson." Frank's grin was good-natured but unrepentant despite his parting words.

Nancy glanced back and caught the amused look on her father's face as Laura waved everyone out of the kitchen.

"All of you – out! The dishes will wait until morning. Now it is time to relax. Fenton, would you help me with refreshments, please?"

Outside, Frank took Nancy's hand and led her toward the deck chairs where Joe and Vanessa were already seated.

Joe looked up at Nancy, blue eyes dancing. "I think you're a bad influence on my big brother, Nan."

"I agree," Frank said as he dropped into a lounge chair next to Joe and pulled Nancy off her feet and onto his lap.

"You aren't exactly a stellar influence on me, either," Nancy said, shifting to get comfortable.

Smiling, Frank tucked her into himself tightly. "I wouldn't have it any other way, sweetheart."

"Where are Biff and George?" Nancy asked.

"I think they went for a walk," Joe said and flashed a suggestive grin. "Biff was pretty intent on getting George by herself."

Nancy sighed. She had hoped to corner George, herself. She was wondering what was going on but she'd have to wait to talk to her friend later.

It was a clear, pleasant evening. Laura and Fenton brought out pitchers of iced tea and soda and served before joining Carson and Andrea, who were talking at the gazebo. Nancy had barely said two words to her father since her arrival and was feeling vaguely guilty about it.

She was still having trouble overcoming the lingering anger she continued to feel toward him. She didn't want to say something she would later regret. Unfortunately, she was well aware that her silence could be almost as hurtful.

Nancy was only half-listening to the banter of the others as she watched their parents sitting up in the gazebo. Fenton and Laura were on the swing. Aunt Gertrude and Andrea sat on the bench seat across from the Hardys and Nancy's father leaned against one of the posts next to Andrea. Periodically he would steal a glance her way but she avoided meeting his gaze.

Laura happened to look over though and Nancy purposely caught her eye and motioned to her. Laura patted her husband on the leg before standing. Nancy gave Frank a quick kiss on the cheek and pushed herself off of his lap. She smacked his hand when he patted her butt as she moved away, shaking her head in amusement.

Laura smiled at her warmly as they met. "Was there something you needed, Nancy?"

Nancy pressed her lips together. "I . . . well, I was wondering if I could talk to you . . . about my mother."

Laura tucked her arm into Nancy's and led her out into the yard, away from the others. "Let's take a walk. There's something I'd like to talk to you about, too."

Long shadows created elongated shapes across the grass as they moved away from the light of the patio. Laura patted Nancy's arm.

"So, tell me, Nancy, what do you want to know?"

"I guess whatever you can tell me. It dawned on me that I had never really sat down and talked to _you_ about my mother. Dad said you were pretty close. He told me she would come to New York to visit you – especially when she was feeling down."

Laura seemed to be looking into the past, her smile reminiscent. "It's been years since I thought about Elly's visits. She would bundle you up, book a direct flight and call me on the way to the airport. What form our 'girls' time' would take depended on Elly's mood. Sometimes we would head back to the house and let you kids play in the living room while we sat around and visited. Sometimes Eloise would meet us at the airport so she could take you. Then Elly and I would head out on the town – shopping, fine dining and boutiques. Your father had given your mother a gold card so when she came to New York the sky was the limit."

They had wandered to a small sitting garden in the back corner of the yard and sat down on the wrought iron bench there. Laura took both of Nancy's hands in her own.

"I always cherished our girls' time together. Elly said it was the best therapy there was. I think it helped her get through her dark times, as she called them, but it helped me too. I had a lot of trouble adjusting to Fenton's long absences and Elly's visits always helped. She was a wonderful friend."

Nancy was overwhelmed by the affection she felt for Laura Hardy. She had always made Nancy feel like a welcome part of her family, even before Frank had proposed. And now she understood that likely had a lot to do with the friendship that Laura and Eliza had shared.

"When did you meet Mom? Was it after she and Dad were married?"

"Oh, no. Actually, it's a funny story. Fenton and your father met every Saturday for breakfast at Mama's Kitchen. They would eat and then sit and drink coffee for half the afternoon like a couple of old men. I remember the day Fenton came back from Richford and said, 'Carson has fallen in lust.' Elly was a new waitress and apparently Carson stumbled all over himself trying to ask her out. She refused initially but he always has been persistent. Fenton came home a few weeks later and said that we had a double date that night with Carson and his new girl – it was the only way Elly would agree to go out with him."

"So you actually went on my parents' first date," Nancy said with a laugh.

Laura chuckled. "I suppose I did. We had dinner at this really fancy place and then we went to the opera. Fenton hates opera. I remember Fenton telling Carson he owed him big time for making him sit through _Oedipus Rex_. Fenton told me later that Carson footed the bill for the whole evening – he was trying to impress Eliza."

Nancy raised her eyebrows. "With _Oedipus Rex_?"

Laura laughed. "Even Carson had to admit that it probably wasn't the wisest choice for a first date excursion."

"I'm amazed she went out with him again," Nancy said, shaking her head.

"To be honest I think Elly was just as smitten as Carson. She was just in denial."

"Dad said he went to see Fenton the night after he asked Mom to marry him."

Laura's smile faded. "Oh, I remember that night well. I was furious with Fenton. He fed Carson a huge load of crap about it being too soon." Her voice dropped an octave as she mocked her husband, "'Hell, Carson, Laura and I have been dating for two years and aren't engaged. What's your big hurry?' The big oaf. Did your father also tell you that Fenton and I had a huge fight and I walked out?"

Nancy grimaced. "No, he skipped that part."

"I called Elly after I left them. She was in tears, I was in tears – that was the night we turned from acquaintances into real friends. I had never been to her apartment before – it turned out it was right behind the diner. I picked up a fifth on my way there and your mother and I spent the rest of the evening getting falling-down drunk. But if you ever tell my sons, I will deny it, understood?" Laura wagged a finger at Nancy.

Nancy held up a hand. "Your secret is safe with me. So you went and saw my mother that night? Did you know she planned to refuse the proposal?"

"Yes, I did," Laura said softly. "You can imagine how shocked I was when Fenton told me that Carson had called to say he was taking Elly to meet his parents. Later, Elly made me promise not to tell Carson. She said it was just a fleeting case of cold feet. Your mother adored your father, Nancy. Really she did. I think she just had a difficult time believing that she deserved him."

"I am getting the impression that Mom wasn't the easiest person to get close to," Nancy said.

"No, she wasn't. But once you were privileged enough to count her as a friend, she was the truest friend you could have."

"Then why would she leave her childhood friends behind?"

"I don't know that she did, Nancy."

Nancy's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"

"I told you that Elly would come and visit – and she often did. But, I don't think she _always_ came to visit me."

"You mean . . ."

"Over the years I slowly began to realize that Carson thought Elly came to visit me more often than she actually did. I never compared notes with Eloise, though I think she may have suspected the same thing I did."

Nancy's thoughts wandered back to their discussion with Jim Bowers. Was that why he had lied to them about seeing Eliza again? The thought chilled Nancy to the bone.

"Did Dad know?"

"Honestly, dear, I'm not sure that there was anything to know. It's just a suspicion based on some inconsistencies I noticed over time."

Nancy took a deep breath and blurted the question that was really bothering her. "Do you think my mother was having an affair?"

Laura laughed out loud. "Heavens no, Nancy. What would give you that idea? Your mother was devoted to your father and you. She never would have jeopardized that for a fling."

Nancy nodded acceptance, hoping that Laura was right. Because if she was wrong and her mother was having an affair and her father had learned of it, it gave him one heck of a motive for murder.

"Speaking of your father," Laura said.

Nancy sighed. "I know. He loves me. He was only trying to protect me. I need to forgive him for lying to me for nearly _two decades_."

Laura pressed her lips into a thin line. "He wasn't really lying, Nancy."

"You aren't going to try to tell me that an omission isn't a lie, are you?"

"If you're calling an omission a lie then all of the adults in your life were guilty of it. The truth is that none of us dealt with your mother's death well, least of all your father. While we told ourselves we were protecting you, we were really protecting ourselves from having to face the truth – or at least what we thought was the truth. I'm not saying it was right, Nancy, but we're all guilty of it. Fenton, Eloise, Hannah, me and your father."

"Is the fact that you _all_ concealed the truth supposed to make me feel better?" Nancy asked sharply.

Laura shook her head. "You are intent on looking at this as some sort of conspiracy to keep you in the dark. If there was a conspiracy, it was of avoidance of a subject that was too raw and painful to think about, let alone discuss with a child."

"Perhaps you haven't noticed, Laura. I haven't been a child for a few years. At what point was I going to be adult enough to discuss my mother's death?"

"Again, you're assuming there was some sort of plan in place – there was none. As long as you weren't asking, no one was going to offer."

"So if Riley hadn't let the cat out of the bag I never would have learned the truth," Nancy said bitterly.

Laura cupped Nancy's face in her hands.

"Nancy Eloise Drew you have to let this go. No one can go back and change the past. You need to make your peace with it – and let your father do the same."

Laura dropped her hands into her lap but held Nancy's gaze intently. In her head Nancy knew Laura was right. Her problem was that her heart was being stubborn. Her father had always taught her to be honest and forthcoming. The fact that he had been neither with Nancy not only hurt but also confused her. She looked toward the gazebo and tried to sort out how she felt about her father.

Laura's quiet voice broke into Nancy's thoughts. "He's only human, Nancy. I think that's probably one of the hardest things for a daughter to realize about her father. He made a mistake not telling you the truth. Accept it, truly forgive him and put it behind you."

Nancy felt her anger subside and heaved a sigh. She even attempted to smile at the woman who was soon going to be her mother-in-law.

"I'm trying, Laura. Really, I am."

Laura nodded. "That's all I ask. But you need to talk to him. This silent treatment is driving him nuts."

Nancy smiled wanly. "You know that old saying about not having anything nice to say? I think if I started talking at this point in time that Dad might decide the silence was preferable."

Laura chuckled. "Fair enough."

Nancy stood. "I love my father, Laura. Nothing will change that. I think I just need a little more time and space to get over this."

"I'll let him know."

"Thank you."

Nancy rejoined her friends on the deck. Biff and George had returned from their walk and both were quiet and a bit solemn, piquing Nancy's concern. She was going to have to see about cornering George after Biff left so she could find out what was going on.

The next few hours passed quickly. Snuggled against Frank on the deck chair, she was warm and comfortable and she suspected she even dozed off and on.

Around ten she was roused by Van.

"Did your mother go in to clean the kitchen, Joe?"

"Probably," Joe said dismissively. "She and Aunt Gertrude disappeared inside a while ago."

Nancy pushed herself to her feet and looked around but didn't see Laura anywhere. "We should go in and help them."

Vanessa nodded and they walked into the house together. Inside, they found the dirty dishes where they had been left after dinner. They could hear Laura in the living room talking to someone.

Nancy shrugged and opened the dish washer. "Well, as long as we're in here we might as well clean up."

Van took up a station next to Nancy and began rinsing dishes and handing them to her to load into the dish washer.

"You and Laura had a long talk . . .," Van said.

"I realized I had never really talked to Laura about my mother."

"Did she tell you anything helpful?"

"I don't know how helpful it is but she did tell me some things I didn't know." Nancy gave Van a quick summary.

"So what do you think it means?"

"It means my father could have had a motive," Nancy said starkly.

She refused to believe her father could have murdered her mother. Unfortunately, the fact that there was a potential motive was worrisome.

Vanessa looked shocked and opened her mouth as if to ask a question but didn't get the chance as everyone began filing in from out back. Joe caught Van around the waist.

"Ready to head home, babe?"

Nancy flashed a tight smile at Van. "I'll see you at breakfast."

Joe grimaced. "Ah, man, I forgot. We have to be back here at nine tomorrow morning. Come on, babe, let's jet."

He pulled Van toward the front door. Biff and George also headed toward the front door, ostensibly to say their goodnights, though they both looked very serious. Frank walked up beside Nancy and put an arm around her shoulders.

"I'm ready for bed, myself. How about you, sweetheart?"

"Bed sounds good," Nancy agreed and then whispered in his ear, "But I need to talk with George, first."

Her father stepped through the back door and Nancy was struck by how drawn and tired his handsome face had become over the last few days.

The knot of worry that had started earlier in the evening when Nancy was talking to Laura turned into a painful ball in the pit of her stomach. He looked up and caught her eye, his smile warm and affectionate despite everything she was putting him through. She knew Laura was right. Nancy decided it was time to chance a few words and hopefully give him some respite.

"Good night, Dad."

"Good night, honey. I love you." He walked forward and pressed his lips to her forehead.

Nancy smiled up at him. "I love you, too."

It was a start.

nhnhnhnhnhnh

"George, please tell me I can pick you up for breakfast on Sunday."

She looked up into Biff's golden eyes and felt a little light-headed. Why did he have to make everything so damn complicated?

She sighed. "All or nothing?"

"I don't think I can do it any other way, hon," Biff said, his gaze apologetic though his jaw was set stubbornly.

"Breakfast on Sunday," she said slowly and then took a deep breath. "Alright."

The smile on Biff's face warmed George from head to toe. "That's my girl."

"That's still up for debate," George said guardedly.

"Admit it, Georgia, I'm wearing you down."

She couldn't help the small smile that curved her lips when she looked up into his grinning face.

"Don't get cocky, Hooper."

"Hm, looks like I'm losing some ground. I'll have to do something about that."

Biff folded her into an embrace, kissing her deeply and thoroughly. George lost track, enjoying the hazy euphoria she felt when Biff was holding her. She gave a little sigh of disappointment when he pulled away.

"Guess I should jet and let you girls talk."

Nancy's voice shook George out of her trance.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude."

George glanced toward the front door where her best friend had turned to go back into the house, her embarrassment obvious.

Biff held up a hand to stop Nancy's retreat. "I'm just leaving, Nan. Have a good night!"

Biff dropped one final kiss on the top of George's head before jogging out to his car. George waved as he pulled out of the drive and headed down the street.

She walked back to the porch and sat on the step at the feet of her friend. She dropped her chin in her hands.

"The best laid plans . . ." George sighed heavily. "I am so confused, Nan."

Nancy moved down a step and sat down next to her, rubbing a hand in soothing circles on George's back.

"I wondered what was up. You've been acting . . . out of sorts tonight."

George waved a hand in the general direction that Biff's car had disappeared. "You know how I planned to talk with Biff about slowing down? Well, you just saw how well that went."

"What happened?"

"As soon as I got off the plane he dropped a bombshell on me," George said. She swallowed convulsively as she remembered, choking back the tears that threatened every time she thought about it.

Nancy's worried face swam into her view. "George, what's wrong? Are you ok?"

The concern in those blue eyes coupled with the warm arm around her shoulders wiped out what little remained of George's control and the tears spilled over.

"Biff has orders to Afghanistan. He leaves in five weeks," she whispered.

Arm tightening around George's shoulders, Nancy murmured, "Oh, George, I'm so sorry. How long will he be gone?"

"At least six months, though he said that the last time his tour was extended."

George couldn't seem to help the worst case scenarios playing out in her mind. What if something happened to Biff? What if she never got to see him again? The idea made her physically ill. She turned her face into Nancy shoulder as sobs escaped her.

Nancy held George without saying a word until she was cried out and then handed her a wad of tissues from her pocket.

George took them with a shaky laugh. "Always prepared?"

Nancy gave her a rueful smile. "I try. I'm really sorry, George. I wish I could help."

George wiped her face and blew her nose. "You have, Nan. I managed to hold it together all evening, but I really needed that cry. Biff hasn't told Frank and Joe, yet. He said he was just glad he was going to get to stay through the wedding."

"So what now?"

With a shrug, George said, "Biff is . . . well, he's being kind of an ass, to be honest. He told me that if this was too hard, we could call it quits now."

"And if it isn't too hard?"

"He wants me to meet his parents on Sunday," George said. "And he wants to come back to Chicago with me next week to meet my folks. He has a couple weeks leave before deployment and thought he'd spend half of it with me in Chicago."

"Oh."

George dropped her chin in her hand.

"Yeah, 'oh.'"

"How do you feel about that?"

"Very confused."

"Come on, George," Nancy said quietly.

George stood and crossed her arms, moving away a few steps and staring up at the stars.

"You know, I really thought I was in love with Burt, Nan. I thought he was the one. And now . . ." George stopped, trying for the umpteenth time to sort out her feelings.

"Now?" Nancy prodded gently after nearly a minute of silence.

"I don't know. It doesn't seem fair to have this thrust on me as an all or nothing decision. Biff's in such a hurry and I'm not sure I'm ready. But . . . I also don't want to lose him. I really think I love him. But I thought I loved Burt. I just don't know." She turned and looked at her friend who always seemed to have all of the answers. "What do I do, Nan?"

Nancy pressed her lips together. "I can't answer that, George. Only you can."

George sighed. "Of course, you're right. I've already told Biff I'd go to breakfast with him at his parents on Sunday, anyway."

"Sounds like you've made your decision, then," Nancy said.

Those quietly spoken words seemed to calm the chaos in George's mind. Turning back toward the house, she smiled thoughtfully at Nancy.

"I guess I have."

Nancy laughed. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

George walked up the steps and linked arms with her friend. "I don't want to think about it anymore tonight. And promise me you won't bring this up tomorrow. Tomorrow is your day. We'll schedule a girls night next week when you get back to Chicago and analyze my problems to death."

"I'm going back to Ithaca on Monday, George."

"Oh, yeah. Well, when you do get back to Chicago, then."

"It's a date."

"Good."

"You'll be busy with Biff in Chicago next week, anyway," Nancy said teasingly.

"Right. Thanks, Nan. I _was_ relaxing. Biff and my parents are going to meet. _They're going to meet._"

"What are you worried about, George? Your parents are going to love Biff."

"I know. But is Biff going to love my parents?"

nhnhnhnhnhnh

The next day, Vanessa ducked out of breakfast early to go to Fenton's office and work on the computer. Several days of not being in the office were catching up with her but she was determined to go back to Ithaca on Monday with Joe, Frank and Nancy.

She had promised her boss she would at least get through her email and check assignments. Working remotely for an extended period definitely took a toll on her productivity.

She was shaken from her focus by the sound of a throat clearing. She looked up to find Nancy looking in at her through the doorway. They had never gotten to finish their interrupted conversation of the night before.

"Hey, Nan! Come on in."

"I don't want to bother you. I know you've gotten kind of behind on work because of me."

Van motioned her in. "I'm just finishing up assignments for next week. We're not terribly busy right now anyway. And I do most of the marketing on line which I can do from almost anywhere."

Nancy sat down in one of the comfortable leather chairs on the opposite side of the large oak desk from Vanessa.

"Nice try, Van. I know you couldn't have gotten much done while you were in Ithaca last week. We kept you far too busy."

"Well, I did get a little done thanks to Arthur's computer. And I'm nearly caught up now." Vanessa leaned her elbows on the desk and folded her hands. "How are you holding up, Nan?"

"I'm ok."

Van was about to question that assertion when there was a commotion in the entry hall.

Laura's voice sounded, "Eloise! I'm so glad you could make it. I think Nancy is in the study."

Nancy sighed and stood just as her aunt came walking into the room, followed closely by Laura.

"Nancy, it has been far too long since you've been out for a visit," Eloise Drew said as she swept toward Nancy, her dark hair escaping a loose bun and curling around her pretty face.

Eloise's darker coloring distracted from the similarities between her and Nancy's facial structures but there was no doubt that the two women were related.

Nancy embraced her aunt. "It's good to see you, Aunt Eloise." She turned and reached out to Van. "This is Vanessa Bender, Joe's fiancée."

Vanessa shook the woman's hand. "I believe we've met before. It's nice to see you again, Ms. Drew."

"Of course, Vanessa. And please, call me Eloise. It's very nice to see you again, dear," she said warmly.

Laura put a hand on Eloise's shoulder. "Vanessa was trying to get some work done. Perhaps we should move into the living room."

"Oh, please, don't do that on my account. I'm nearly done. Please sit down and visit while I finish up," Vanessa said earnestly.

She recognized the burning questions in Nancy's eyes and she was anxious not to miss anything. Vanessa knew her own curiosity was nothing compared to what Nancy's must be but she felt no less vested in learning the truth about what had happened to Eliza Drew.

Nancy moved with her aunt to the couch in the small comfortable sitting area in the corner of the office. Van had always loved Fenton's office. With its leather upholstery and oak furniture and Spartan but comfortable décor it was very reflective of the man himself. It seemed odd to see a group of women making themselves comfortable in the masculine surroundings.

Vanessa tried to pay attention to the project schedule on the screen. The nearby conversation was far more interesting, though.

"Aunt Eloise, I'm so glad you could make it. I know it was short notice –"

"I'm afraid I can't come to the fitting today, Nancy," Eloise said, her disappointment obvious. "I promised Gertrude that I would take her to her eye doctor appointment. She had such a time getting in to see him, I just can't back out."

"Oh, Eloise, why didn't you say something? I can take Gertrude so you can go to the fitting," Laura said.

"Absolutely not, Laura – you, of all people, should be at the fitting. Gertrude's appointment is early enough that I thought perhaps we could make it to the fitting late or at least meet you for lunch afterwards. I'm sure Nancy understands. Don't you, dear?"

"Of course," Nancy said. "Do you have to leave right away?"

"I came early so I could get at least a little bit of time with my favorite niece."

"I'm glad."

Vanessa looked up as Laura chuckled. "I believe Nancy has some questions regarding her mother that she was hoping to ply you with Eloise. Perhaps I should go get us all some tea while you two talk."

As Laura walked out of the room Vanessa gave up the pretense of working and watched in fascination as Nancy and her aunt faced one another.

Eloise sat back and gazed at her niece steadily. "Your father has filled me in on what you've been up to. He's quite upset about the whole situation."

Nancy's return gaze was mildly defiant. "He's not the only one who's upset."

Lips pressed into a thin line, Eloise leaned forward and took Nancy's hand. "He was doing what he thought was best for you, Nancy. Your father loves you very much. So do I. What good was there in you knowing that your mother killed herself?"

Nancy snatched her hand away, stood and began pacing. "But that's the entire point, Aunt Eloise, she didn't kill herself – she was murdered."

"Who would want to murder Elly? Honestly, Nancy, the whole idea seems, well, just ludicrous."

Nancy crossed her arms and stared studiously at the floor for several silent seconds before looking at her aunt hollowly. "Even knowing that Mom knew she was pregnant you think she self-administered an overdose?"

Eloise smoothed her hands down her slacks before meeting her niece's gaze. "It could have been an accident, Nancy."

"No! Mom wouldn't touch her medication all the time she was trying to get pregnant. Dad even said so."

Eloise shook her head. "I just . . . it was so devastating . . . to your father – to all of us. Do you have any idea how it is tearing him apart now that he realizes the truth? How could we have believed that Elly would kill herself? How could we have let her murderer go free and clear for nearly two decades?"

Nancy dropped onto the couch next to Eloise and gripped both of her hands, sympathy replacing the defiance of minutes earlier.

"I can only imagine how you're feeling – how Dad is feeling. But that doesn't change the facts. I have to know what happened to Mom. We all need that closure."

Eloise sighed. "What can I do to help?"

"Laura told me that Mom would visit periodically. And that sometimes you would care for me while Mom and she spent the day in the city."

"Yes. I always loved those visits when I'd have you all to myself." The affection in Eloise's smile was unmistakable.

"Did Mom always come to visit Laura or did she sometimes visit other friends?"

"I'm not sure, Nancy. Usually Laura would meet us at the airport. But there were times when Elly would drop you with me and leave in a rental car. I always thought she was visiting Laura but I don't know that for certain."

Eloise sat forward. "Your mother was a wonderful person, Nancy, please never doubt that. But she had definite abandonment issues that I don't think she ever successfully overcame, at least not fully. She was very private. Though I like to think she trusted me, I don't think she was ever terribly open about her past. I always thought it was because it was too painful. Now, knowing that she may have been murdered, I am forced to wonder."

Laura had reappeared and set a tray of steaming tea cups on the coffee table. "I agree, Eloise. Since learning that Elly may have been murdered –"

"_She was murdered_," Nancy said.

With a sad smile Laura acknowledged Nancy's statement and continued, "Of course. And knowing that Elly was murdered, I've spent an inordinate amount of time over the last couple of days going over all of my conversations with her, searching for some clue to what could have happened. But the truth is I don't think she ever shared that part of her life with us – any of us."

Nancy was silent as she looked from Laura to Eloise. She finally stood and began pacing again. "Have you ever compared notes about the dates of Mom's visits? Are you certain she didn't go to Ithaca after she and Dad married?"

"Actually, we did, just last night on the phone," Eloise said quietly. "It's been over twenty years but based on what we recall, your mother didn't _always_ visit Laura when she came to New York. However, neither of us can tell you where she did go. She simply never shared that with either of us."

Nancy's pace increased. "Do you think she could have been . . . having an affair?"

Eloise laughed, "Elly? An affair? Never. She adored Carson. Adored him. She never would have jeopardized that with an affair."

Laura nodded her head in agreement.

Nancy stopped and looked at them. "What if I told you that I know for a fact that Mom was in love with another man. She wrote rather . . . passionately about her feelings for him in one of her journals."

"When was this?" Eloise asked.

"When she was sixteen she worked for a young lawyer in Ithaca," Nancy said.

"Sixteen?" Laura said. "Nancy, you don't fall in love at sixteen. You have crushes. Surely you recognize the difference now?"

Vanessa considered the question seriously herself. She had had crushes as a teenager. But she was only a year older than sixteen when she first met Joe. Though it had started as a crush she loved him now. She knew there was a difference. She just wasn't really clear on what the difference was. Couldn't a crush turn into something more? Could that have happened to Eliza?

"The man, Jim Bowers, reciprocated her feelings but he was just starting his career and for the most part he refused to act on them. Perhaps Mom returned to Ithaca to rekindle the relationship once she was older."

Eloise shook her head. "I just can't believe it, Nancy. You probably don't remember seeing your parents together – you were so young when Eliza passed. But their love for one another was so obvious. There is no way Elly could have faked that."

"Nancy, what are you looking for?" Laura asked. "We talked about this last night. I told you the same thing Eloise just did. Eliza would not have risked what she had with your father for some tawdry affair. She just wouldn't have."

Nancy sat down and rubbed her temples. "The fact remains that you don't _know_. You don't know where Mom was going during those visits or who she was seeing. And if it was Jim, and if Dad found out . . ."

Eloise looked shocked. "You cannot seriously think your father was responsible for your mother's death!"

"No, Aunt Eloise, I don't. But the police in Chicago never identified any other potential suspects. Unless we can find some viable alternatives in Ithaca you have to recognize how damning this information is."

Vanessa now fully understood why Nancy was so upset about this latest piece of the puzzle. She pushed away from the desk and hurried to her friend's side, wrapping a comforting arm around her shoulders.

"We'll find out who is responsible, Nancy. I know we will."

NH

A/N: Thank you to those who reviewed last chapter: marbleandtoast, JackieJacks, Unknown Reviewer (thanks, again, or too . . .), Agent Striker, Confidential Brunette, liferscove2118, Severedwasp, and smilingspaz (hm, well, Ithaca is a good-sized city, but that doesn't necessary rule out plots or conspiracies, I suppose ;).

I also appreciate those who put the story on alert or favorite.


	23. Chapter 22

Disclaimer: I don't own Nancy Drew or the Hardy Boys. The OCs are all mine, for what that's worth.

This is dedicated to my grandmother, Alberta, who passed away yesterday. Love you and miss you, Gram. Say 'hi' to Gramps for me :)

**Chapter 22: Forging Friendships**

The fittings were scheduled for late morning. Andrea met Vanessa, Laura, George and Nancy at the Hardys' and they drove to the seamstress in downtown Bayport together. Callie Shaw-Kempfer was waiting for them when they arrived.

While Laura and Andrea waited in the fitting room, Nancy and Vanessa went back to the changing rooms to try on their respective gowns with George and Callie helping.

George helped Nancy get into her mother's wedding dress but that was about all she could do. The pearl buttons up the back gaped hopelessly despite George's attempts to pull them together.

"I think we had better leave it open, Nan. I don't want to rip a seam trying to force it together."

"Hopefully there's enough spare material to work with," Nancy said.

When she and George emerged Vanessa was already on one of the two fitting pedestals in the room looking at her reflection in the three-pane mirror in front of her.

Andrea was beaming. "The dress fits you like a glove, sweetie. Though we may have to buy you some high heels to get the length right."

"I think I'd prefer to have it hemmed, Mother," Vanessa said. "I refuse to be preoccupied by aching feet the entire day of my wedding."

Nancy stepped up on the other pedestal and grimaced at the gaping fasteners in the back of her dress, murmuring to no one in particular, "Everyone keeps telling me I look just like my mother but obviously I am not built like her."

George shook her head. "Your mom had to have been a stick."

Laura smiled as she stepped up and tugged on the back and then the skirt to check the fit. "You are built more like your aunt than your mother, Nancy. It's not that bad. I'm sure Betty can work with it."

Betty was one of the seamstresses in the shop – a sweet middle-aged woman with white hair and a full figure. Kara, the other seamstress was already working on pinning up Vanessa's dress while she and Andrea caught Callie up on the plans for the wedding.

Betty clucked her tongue as she approached Nancy. "Thank you for the vote of confidence, Laura. Now let me see here."

She was silent as she studied the dress, turning Nancy this way and that. She checked the seams and shook her head. "There simply isn't enough spare material to let out at the seams and I'm afraid the creases would be too set in to work out, anyway."

She tapped her scissors on her chin for several seconds and then snapped her fingers, her face lighting with a smile.

"I have a splendid idea. I could rip out these two back sections and do this as a backless dress – they're quite in vogue right now. I'll go get the book and show you some options for the alteration."

As Betty hurried out of the room, Nancy turned and looked at George and Laura. "Did she say backless?"

George laughed. "Yes. And I have to say, I think Frank would probably like that."

Laura chuckled. "Oh yes. I do believe my son would be quite happy with that alteration."

"Definitely," Vanessa said from the next pedestal, catching Nancy's eye in the mirror and winking.

Nancy looked at Vanessa enviously as her attention returned to the conversation between her mother and her matron of honor. Vanessa looked absolutely lovely. Next to Vanessa stood Callie Shaw-Kempfer. Long platinum hair falling in soft waves around a heart-shaped face and her cream-colored suit dress accenting her tall, slim figure. Comparatively, Nancy felt like a stuffed sausage.

She sighed as Betty came bustling back into the room. "I can finish the back as a cowl, though it may be tricky to match the fabric. Hm, a lace edging would do nicely. This is such a lovely dress with simple classic lines that I think I can go whatever direction you'd like, dear."

"Within the next four weeks?" Nancy asked doubtfully.

"Oh, yes. I'm certain I can get it done. The dress actually fits very well from the waist down. However, the shoulders are far too narrow for your build. I could add another panel. But again, I'm afraid matching the material could be a real trick. I think converting it to backless is going to be the simplest alteration I could make. I just need to know what you'd like."

Nancy glanced at George who shrugged. "I'm not the fashionista, Bess is. I like the one with the lace around the edge but it doesn't really look like you, Nan."

Laura shook her head. "I agree, George. The lace looks a little too frilly for Nancy. I think we should find something that maintains the simple elegance of the dress."

Nancy nodded inattentively. The reminder of Bess' absence depressed her. She was having trouble getting into the spirit of the fitting, anyway. With her preoccupation about her mother, the absence of one of her best friends as well as her aunt, and the presence of Frank's beautiful ex-girlfriend, she just could not relax. And despite Laura's presence Nancy couldn't help but wish vainly that her own mother could be here. It seemed everything was conspiring against her enjoying today.

A pessimistic attitude was dragging Nancy further down as she flipped the pages of the wedding fashion book when Laura pointed to a small picture in the corner.

"What about this one, sweetie? That style just looks like you – simple and beautiful."

A smile finally curved Nancy's lips. "I do like that one, Laura. Betty, would this be a possibility?"

Betty looked at the photo which showed a simple satin sheath with a back that was open in a wide V at the shoulder and narrowed to a lacing enclosure that started low on the back and cinched in at the waist.

"Oh, that's a lovely idea. This is perfect. You'll just have to pick out the ribbon you want to use for the closure. Hopefully we can find something close – let me go get the samples we have on hand and we'll see if one of those will work."

Betty returned a few minutes later and with Laura and George's help Nancy quickly selected a simple satin ribbon that was a fairly close match to the dress material.

Having her stand on the pedestal again, Betty said, "Ok, Let me take a closer look here."

Betty took measurements and studied the structure of the gown as it currently fit Nancy, taking copious notes and even creating a couple sketches.

"Alright, dear, you can go take it off. I'll need you back in here next week for another fitting once I have the basic structure stitched together. Just make an appointment before you leave."

George followed Nancy into the changing room to help her get the dress off.

"You seem kind of down, Nan. What's wrong?"

Nancy pulled her sundress over her head while George hung the wedding dress back on its hanger.

"Nothing is really wrong," Nancy said quietly. "I guess I'm just in a bit of a funk. I mean, Vanessa looks amazing. Frank's ex-girlfriend is here looking like she stepped off the cover of Vogue. And I'm stuffed into my mother's wedding dress like a Vienna sausage. Honestly, I know I'm not fat but it really does give a girl a complex, know what I mean?"

George crossed her arms and chuckled. "I suppose. Truth be told, you will look just as amazing as Vanessa in your dress, it's just going to take a little more work. And Callie is not here as Frank's ex-girlfriend. She is here as Vanessa's matron of honor and I stress the matron part – she is very happily married."

Nancy sighed and gave her friend a weak smile. "You're right, George. I think what's really bothering me is that I don't want to be here – I want to be in Ithaca. I need to figure out what happened to my mother."

George pursed her lips. "Now that I can understand."

"I am so totally preoccupied, I barely remember getting here." Nancy shook her head. "I just need to let it go for a few hours and enjoy myself."

"It will all work out, Nan." Picking up the dress, George turned to head out of the changing room. "I'm going to take this out to Betty."

Nancy sat down to put on her sandals when there was a soft tap on the door. She looked up. "Come in."

Callie slipped in and smiled at her uncertainly. "Hello, Nancy."

Vanessa had long been changed back into her street clothes. Nancy knew she was holding up the entire group.

"Hi. I'm just about ready to go."

"I couldn't help but overhear . . ."

Nancy felt the heat in her cheeks. She had thought she kept her voice low enough that only George could hear her. Apparently sound carried better in here than she realized. She chalked her indiscretion up to preoccupation – under any other circumstances she would have been much more careful about being overheard.

"I'm sorry, Callie. I didn't mean anything by it –"

"I'm the one that should be apologizing. I never should have told Van I'd be in the wedding. It's not too late for me to bow out –"

Nancy shook her head adamantly. "I know this is awkward for both of us but you're Van's best friend and it's important to her that you're there when she says her vows. I am not going to stand in the way of that – I like Vanessa too much. I think you and I just need a little bit of time to . . . get used to each other."

Callie gave a little chuckle. "That's what Van said you'd say. Honestly, I think this is bothering me far more than it should. Don't get me wrong, Nancy. I adore my husband but I can't help but wonder how I ended up _not_ being the one standing where you are."

"You could have stayed with Frank," Nancy said. "You were the one who broke it off."

Sitting, Callie looked at Nancy with an amused smirk. "Oh, I could have. The truth is that the only reason Frank and I stayed together as long as we did was because we're both type 'A' personalities and hated to admit defeat. But when he came back from Egypt even I couldn't ignore that he was head over heels in love with another woman – despite his own stubborn denial of the fact."

Nancy closed her eyes and took a deep breath before finally meeting Callie's gaze. "I'm so sorry."

This time Callie's laugh was genuine. "You don't have to be sorry, Nancy. Everything has turned out for the best. Besides, it's not like you were out to hurt me. In fact I get the impression that for awhile you and Frank both tried very hard to deny your feelings in order to spare me. But while I appreciate the thought it was obviously a pointless endeavor."

Nancy gave Callie a weak smile. "Obviously. But I am sorry. I never intended for any of this to happen. Frank was always just a really good friend . . . I don't know when or how that changed but I never meant to hurt anyone – especially you or Ned."

"Ned. That's your ex, right?" Callie asked. "I'd like to meet him and compare notes. I wonder if he noticed the same things I did."

Cheeks flaming again, Nancy snorted. "Oh, I'm sure he did. He was pretty open about what was on his mind when it ended."

"I'm sorry to hear that. I'd like to think that I can still count Frank among my friends. He's a really great guy."

"Yes, he is," Nancy said.

"And I am happy for both of you," Callie said. "Really. Please don't ever think otherwise. Frank deserves happiness. So do you."

Nancy smiled at her and squeezed her hand. "Thank you so much. That means a lot to me. I'm really glad we had a chance to talk."

Callie maintained a grip on her hand and stood, pulling Nancy to her feet.

"Me too. Now let's get out of here and get some lunch – I am starving! And then I understand from Vanessa that you have someone you want to go visit."

Nancy allowed herself to be dragged out into the waiting room and on out to the car. Unfortunately she was once again totally distracted. Soon she would get to meet Sara Fields – her grandmother's friend.

The ensuing lunch was a blur.

nhnhnhnhnhnh

"Feels just fine."

Frank shrugged his shoulders a couple of times as the tailor checked the fit of the tux jacket.

"Hey, Frank, we're going with the standard black tux, right? No tails? Please no tails." Biff called from nearby.

"The tails are just for you, Biff," Joe said with a grin. He still stood in his street clothes. His attendant had disappeared in the back, having exhausted the standard jacket sizes in the front of the store.

"I'm done, Chet," Frank said, handing the jacket back to the tailor. "You're up."

Frank walked over and took a seat next to Carson Drew, who had also finished his fitting for a tux.

"That was fairly painless. I wonder how Nancy and Vanessa are making out at the seamstress." Frank fingered his cell phone but resisted the urge to call.

"I hope the girls are relaxing and having a good time. Unfortunately, I think that's a tall order for Nancy right now," Carson said. He was quiet for several seconds and then looked at Frank. "How is she doing?"

Frank rubbed the back of his neck. "Shouldn't you ask her that?"

Carson gave a dry chuckle. "I don't really think she's ready for a conversation with dear old Dad, right now. I thought perhaps after our talk in Chicago that it was going to be alright. Obviously I was mistaken."

"You're just a convenient target right now, Carson," Frank said, quietly.

"Convenience and appropriateness are one and the same in this case. I can only hope that she'll forgive me eventually."

"Honestly, I think part of her problem is that she feels guilty about bringing this whole mess to light, especially right now. She's angry at you, yes. But she's also worried about how this investigation is affecting you."

"She's the one I'm worried about. You didn't seem all that happy about this undercover plan of hers, yourself."

Carson's tone was undeniably leading and Frank ground his teeth. It felt like he was on trial but he figured that was just the fact that he was talking to Carson Drew. Despite having known the man all of his life, Frank couldn't deny that he found him somewhat intimidating. Coupled with the fact that they were moving into dicey territory, Frank wanted to be cautious about how he responded.

"Well, I think happiness has very little to do with it. I'm concerned about her safety but I know Nan is more than capable of pulling it off. I just keep hoping we can come up with a less . . . hands-on option for getting at the evidence we need. Part of the issue is that we have an external time crunch."

"Can't you rein her in?" Carson asked intently. "She has always listened to you, Frank, and this plan of hers sounds incredibly reckless to me."

Frank gave an un-amused snort. "You know Nancy better than I do, sir. She's made up her mind. At this point I'm just trying to make sure that we can move forward as safely as possible."

Carson turned toward him and Frank was struck by just how much his future father-in-law had aged over the last week.

"Why is she so intent on pursuing this now, of all times? She should be preparing for your wedding and planning for the future, not lingering in the past. You have to tell her to stop this foolishness, Frank!"

Frank felt like he was failing the desperate man sitting next to him. He knew Nancy, though, and there was only one way he could respond to such a request.

"I can't do that, sir."

nhnhnhnhnhnh

Joe had overheard most of the conversation between his brother and Carson Drew. He didn't envy Frank his current position. Carson Drew seemed to think that Frank could somehow wave a magic wand and make Nancy give up the search for her mother's murderer. Anyone who knew her knew that was a pipe dream. No matter what the personal ramifications, Nancy was on a mission and there was no one, not even his brother, who was going to deter her.

"I think I have all of the measurements I need. I'll have to order out for the jacket. We'll call when it comes in so we can check the fit, sir."

Joe nodded absently at the tailor as he moved to join his brother and lend moral support, if nothing else.

Carson's agitation was apparent and Joe saw his father approaching, too. He suspected that his dad had overheard the entire conversation as well. His gaze was locked on Carson and his face was tight with concern.

"You can't or you won't?" Carson's anger was apparent in tone and expression as he continued to stare at Frank.

"I suppose it's both, sir," Frank's gaze was level, tone even and calm as he faced a man that could intimidate the most hardened criminal.

"I'm disappointed in you, Frank," Carson said.

Frank took a deep breath. "Sir, despite the fact that I'm not thrilled with Nancy's plan, I recognize that it is the most direct path forward in this investigation. I count on Nancy like I've always counted on Joe, to counter my sometimes overly cautious methods and keep us moving forward. That's what this plan will do. It isn't reckless, it's expeditious. Nancy knows what she's doing. You have to trust that. I know I do."

Carson sank back in his chair, his anger dissipating as quickly as it had coalesced. Joe smirked – Nancy might look like her mother but she had inherited her temperament, among other things, from her father.

His father's hand came down on Carson's shoulder and squeezed. "Carson, you need to relax and let them finish this investigation. I know it's difficult but you know this is for the best. You and Nancy both need closure where Elly's death is concerned. It's the only way to put all of this behind you and move on. You have to realize how important that is to Nancy right now, in particular."

Joe looked at his brother's and father's earnest expressions and chuckled despite the seriousness of the conversation. "Honestly, you all talk like there's something you could do to stop Nan. Frank and I aren't going to let her out of our sight through this. As I see it, that's about the best we can hope to do."

"Actually, little brother, you tend to egg her on. Not that that's always a bad thing. We work pretty well as a team - including Vanessa."

Frank's final statement was a definite jibe and Joe grimaced. "I've been trying to convince Van to stay in New York next week."

"Good luck with that," Frank said with a smirk. "Vanessa is as interested in this investigation as the rest of us at this point. I think it's as pointless trying to stop her as it is trying to stop Nancy."

His father chuckled. "You boys definitely have your hands full with those two young ladies, eh, Carson?"

Carson flashed his friend a wan smile. "I can't say I know Vanessa well but based on what her mother says, she's every bit as strong-willed as Nancy." He gave Frank an apologetic smile. "Somehow I think Frank and Joe are up to the challenge."

Biff and Chet walked up to the group and Chet dropped into the chair next to Frank.

"Tony and Phil are just about done. Where are we going to eat? I'm starving."

Joe laughed. "That's Chet – always thinking with his stomach."

Chet smirked at his friend and pulled himself up proudly. "At least I got a jacket off the rack. You can't say that, Joe."

"I can't help it that they don't stock jackets for guys with my impressive physique," Joe said.

Frank stood as Tony and Phil joined them. "Yeah, well, I think your physique is slipping down around your waist, little brother. I noticed that the pants off the rack didn't fit very well either."

Joe recognized the continuing tension in Frank's stance despite the levity of his words. Joe gave him an encouraging grin and then thumped his own stomach with a fist. "Pure muscle, bro."

Frank knocked on Joe's head and returned the smile. "That must be the issue up here, too."

"Ha, ha, ha," Joe said as they all turned to leave the tux shop.

"So, um, where are we eating?" Chet ventured as they spilled into the main mall corridor.

Joe snapped his fingers and shot his portly friend a dismayed look. "Oh no, we forgot to select the color of the cummerbunds. We're gonna have to go back."

Chet groaned. "Can't we get a snack at Mr. Pizza first?"

The entire group broke into laughter, including Nancy's father. Joe felt relieved. Glancing over, he noted that Frank was finally relaxing after the confrontation. His brother clapped Chet on the shoulder with a grin.

"Don't worry, Chet – Joe's just pulling your leg. I already got the color samples. We'll let the ladies select the cummerbund color. Our next stop is lunch."

Chet heaved a relieved sigh. "Thank goodness."

As they made their way to the steak house at the Mall entrance, Joe found himself watching Carson Drew. The lawyer had been a presence in his life since he had been born but Joe still found him a bit aloof and unapproachable.

Personally, he was eternally thankful Carson Drew wasn't going to be _his_ father-in-law.

nhnhnhnhnhnh

"Hey, Cal, Mom and Laura are ready to head home. Do you think you could give us a ride to the Mall? I'm going to steal the car from Joe. He can hitch a ride back to the Hardys' with one of the guys."

"I can," Callie said. "Where are you three going?"

"To visit Sara Fields in Islip. I told you about her – she was a good friend to Nan's grandmother," Vanessa said with a wave of her hand. "Anyway, we were going to see if we could catch her at home today."

Callie looked intrigued. "Do you think she'll be able to shed some light on Eliza's death?"

Nancy shrugged, "I doubt it but I'm really looking forward to meeting her anyway."

Callie waved them to the car. "Why don't I just take you? I don't have anything else planned for the afternoon and Islip isn't that far."

"Great!" Van said.

The four young women piled into Callie's car and made for the address Van had found for Sara Fields.

Van was so glad Callie had decided to come. Though she only lived in Garrison, New York, it was far enough away from the City that they weren't able to meet for coffee or brunch except on rare occasions. It was nice to spend some time together, catching up.

They arrived at the address which corresponded to a small apartment building. Nancy was the first up and out of the car. Van rolled down the window.

"Do you think you should go in alone, Nan? I just got to thinking that it might kind of freak her out to have four strangers descend on her."

"You're probably right," Nancy said. "I'll just run up and see if she's home."

Nancy returned a few minutes later and got back into the car.

"Sara moved out a few months ago. Apparently she suffers from Parkinson's and her condition had degenerated to the point where she couldn't live on her own any longer. She's living at the Colton Nursing Home in Islip Terrace. The landlady was very nice. She said that she was sure Sara would love to have visitors."

Fifteen minutes later all four young women were signing in at the Colton Nursing Home. They were directed to Sara Fields' room.

Sara had been propped up in a chair looking out the window. Only her eyes swiveled to look at the girls standing in the doorway.

"Can I help you find someone?" she asked, her voice tremulous but clear.

Nancy stepped into the room with a smile. "Actually, I believe we're looking for you – Sara Fields?"

Sara's eyes reflected a smile that she couldn't seem to quite get her lips to form. "You came to see me?"

Nancy moved to Sara's side. "Yes. You were a friend to my grandmother, Amy Morgan."

"Oh, I haven't heard that name in so long. Amy Morgan. You say you're her granddaughter? That would make you . . . Eliza's daughter."

Sara still had a very sharp mind despite her obvious physical limitations.

Nancy smiled at the woman. "Yes. I'm Eliza's daughter."

"Please, sit. Who are your friends?"

Nancy leaned on the window sill in front of Sara and motioned the rest of them in and introduced them. Vanessa pulled a chair around so she could sit within Sara's line of sight. Though Sara seemed to struggle to move, her gray eyes were bright and alert. It was obvious that she was thrilled to have visitors.

"Goodness, it's been such a long time since I thought of Amy and Martin. They were the same age as my husband and I. And my daughter, Hillary, and Eliza were in school together."

"Does your daughter live nearby?" Vanessa asked.

Sara's eyes reflected a deep sadness. "Yes but I haven't spoken to Hillary in years. She never understood why I left her father. When she turned fourteen she decided to move in with him and his new wife and she left me behind. She still sends me cards but she rarely comes to visit."

"I'm so sorry," Nancy said.

"You don't want to hear about my sad story," Sara said dismissively. "Your grandmother – she was a wonderful person. Her death was a horrible tragedy."

Nancy's hands were folded in her lap. "Were you still living in Ithaca when the house fire occurred?"

"Yes. As a matter of fact Eliza was with us that night for Hillary's birthday party. Eliza didn't really want to be there because her father was home but Amy insisted she come. Amy had actually started to shake out of her funk after Zack's kidnapping and wanted to have a quiet, romantic evening with her husband. She was really worried about him."

"Amy was worried about Martin?" Vanessa asked.

"You have to understand that it had been nearly two years since Zack had been kidnapped. The authorities had exhausted every lead and found nothing and yet Martin continued to search. It just so happened that at that point in time his search was much closer to home than usual – day trips around the Ithaca area."

"Richford?" Nancy asked.

"Hm, yes, I think that was one of the places Martin was visiting. I remember Amy talking about Forrest Home, too, though I don't know what he was doing. Martin always thought he was close to finding his son. It had become a . . . a destructive obsession. He lost his job and did nothing but search for his son. Honestly, that whole situation was the beginning of the end between my husband and me, too."

"How so?" Vanessa asked curiously.

"Trevor was an electronics specialist and he fed Martin's security fetish that developed after the kidnapping. The two of them were like a couple of kids, setting up surveillance cameras and other electronic monitoring gadgets around the neighborhood. Of course, being the manipulator he was, Trevor got Martin to pay for all of the latest toys he could get his hands on. It was disgraceful how he used his supposed friend. But that's the way my husband always was."

The bitterness in Sara's voice was unmistakable. Nancy's face was tight with sympathy but she gently refocused the questions more squarely on her grandparents with a follow up question.

"Sara, you said Amy had shaken out of her funk. Was she encouraging Martin in his search? Helping him?"

"Amy couldn't help but get her hopes up when Martin would start on one of his jaunts but she was slowly coming to grips with the idea that they would likely never find her son. She had grieved and was trying to move on but Martin kept pulling her back. She was talking about taking Eliza and leaving him but she still loved him. She wanted to save him from himself."

"What about Eliza?" Nancy asked quietly.

"Eliza . . . she was such a sweet child. I was always rather disappointed that she and Hillary weren't closer. Hillary's father spoiled her and she tended to be rather self-absorbed. Eliza wasn't like that. She worried about her parents, both of them. You could see it. I know it's normal for the parent-child relationship to flip at some point in time but not when the child is still . . . a child."

Sara's eyes drifted shut. Vanessa glanced at Nancy, who was watching Sara thoughtfully. She looked up and caught Vanessa's eye.

"I think she's tired," Nancy whispered.

Sharp gray eyes flew open and Sara looked at Nancy. "I wish I could help you more, Nancy. Your grandmother was a wonderful friend but I really never knew your mother that well. I was rather wrapped up in my own personal problems at the time. When Amy died, I could only think about how the loss affected me. She was the one person who knew what I was going through. I took Hillary and left my husband shortly after the house fire and never looked back."

Nancy squeezed the woman's hand. "I really appreciate you taking time to talk to me, Sara. It means more than you'll ever know. Would it . . . would it be ok if I came back to visit sometime?"

With an effort, Sara forced her uncooperative lips to curve up slightly. "That would mean a great deal to me, Nancy."

They each said a warm goodbye to the sweet, lonely woman. Vanessa was the last in line and knelt next to Sara and gave her a warm smile.

"Sara, what is your daughter's name?"

"Hillary Kilpatrick. She lives in Washington DC with her husband and two children. I get pictures and cards in the mail periodically. In fact, the latest card is in the drawer in my side table. But it's been years since we've actually seen each other. There's just so much hurt and distrust there. My husband was a horribly manipulative man and Hillary never could see past the gifts that he lavished her with. I've made my peace with it, dear."

'But has she?' Vanessa wondered. She patted Sara's hand. "Thank you so much for talking to us, Sara. We'll be by to visit again. Take care."

Vanessa stopped by Sara's side table and pulled out the drawer, easily picking out the birthday card from Hillary Kilpatrick to her mother. She looked at the address and then laid the card back in the drawer.

Out in the hall, Nancy was waiting and Vanessa smiled at her. "Do you want to go see Hillary Kilpatrick?"

Lips pursed, Nancy nodded. "If not to learn about Eliza than at least to inform a stubborn woman that she should visit her estranged mother. How could she abandon such a sweet woman? I wish I had the opportunity Hillary does."

Vanessa nodded thoughtfully. She wondered the same thing about Eliza. Why had Nancy's mother never gone back to visit Anna and Arthur? It seemed strange and Vanessa wondered if it was significant. Was there a reason Eliza stayed away from the sweet old couple?

Would they ever know Eliza's whole story?

NH

A/N: Thank you to those who reviewed last chapter: Sabrina H (nice to have a name ;) thanks for the review!), Smithy (that is incredibly romantic. I know the separation has to be very difficult for our military families), marbleandtoast, Severedwasp, smilingspaz (I always thought it was a crime they didn't give Laura more pages . . . how she's lived with those Hardy men all these years, I'll never know ;), Confidential Brunetter, JackieJacks (ROFL – thanks for the countdown, sometimes I need the reminder!), and Teish (glad you could join us!).

I also really appreciate those who put the story on alert or favorite!


	24. Chapter 23

Disclaimer: I don't own Nancy Drew or the Hardy Boys. The OCs are all mine, for what that's worth.

Happy reading!

**Chapter 23: Frying Pans & Fires**

Vanessa lay back in the lounge chair and closed her eyes. It was finally quiet. Biff had picked up George mid-morning to take her to breakfast at his parents. That had led to some good-natured ribbing from the brothers.

Biff had handled the teasing assault with amused composure. George's troubled reaction had been rather perplexing, until Biff had told them about his pending departure for Afghanistan. Van immediately understood the gloomy way that George had been looking at Biff all weekend. Her heart went out to the young woman. The situation seemed to drop a wet blanket on the entire group.

Once Biff and George had said their good byes, that left just the family to have brunch, which had been an unusually sedate affair.

Now they had all settled into a quiet, lazy afternoon. However, despite appearances Vanessa knew that everyone was a little keyed up over their impending departure to Ithaca. Still, it was nice to have some time to relax after the whirlwind of activity on Saturday.

After their visit with Sara Fields, they had made the drive into DC only to find that Hillary Kilpatrick wasn't home. Nancy had spent several minutes writing a hasty note to leave in the mailbox.

Then they had headed back to Bayport where Callie bid them goodbye, despite Vanessa's insistence that she should stay for awhile. She suspected Callie was still a little uncomfortable with the idea of spending time with Frank and Nancy. Hopefully she overcame that soon, as the wedding was quickly approaching. Perhaps Vanessa would have to arrange a dinner party with Callie and Sam, Frank and Nancy and Joe and herself – maybe even Biff and George.

After meeting with the landscapers late Saturday afternoon, they had spent the remainder of the evening addressing wedding invitations. Vanessa had to admit that with Laura and Nancy there as a buffer, she and her mother were getting along much better with the wedding plans than they had before. It was an incredible relief.

Van cracked an eye open and located her mother sitting on the swing in the gazebo with Carson. Both of them were smiling and talking, and Carson seemed to find excuses to touch her mother's hand. She smiled and closed her eye again. Andrea and Carson hadn't ventured far from one another all weekend and Vanessa was pleased.

Though her mother dated periodically it had been a long while since she had expressed any overt interest in a man. Yet she was all atwitter about Nancy's father. His name had popped up frequently in every conversation she had had with her mother this weekend.

"Hey, babe."

Vanessa felt rather than saw Joe drop into the lawn chair next to the lounge chair she was laying in. She opened her eyes and smiled up at her fiancée. At times like this she found herself wondering at her luck. Joe's hand stroked up and down her arm and his responding smile was open and affectionate.

"Hey. What's up?" Vanessa asked.

"Not a thing, which is kind of nice for a change of pace."

"Where are Nan and Frank? I haven't seen them for awhile."

Joe waved a hand. "They went for a walk around the neighborhood, I think."

"Speaking of the neighborhood, I made Cal stop by the house over on Devonshire yesterday before she dropped us off here. The girls really liked it. We even took a quick peek inside."

Joe laced his fingers with hers and squeezed. "We're still a few months from having the down payment saved, babe. Don't get your hopes up. The place will probably be sold by then."

Van gave a disappointed little sigh. "You're probably right. We should be looking somewhere where the property values are more in line with what we can afford, anyway."

"It's a stretch but I think we can swing a house in Bayport, babe. It just may not be that one." Joe sat forward. "Hey, Nan and Frank are back and I think they want us to come inside."

Vanessa allowed herself to be pulled up from the lounge chair. Frank was waiting for them by the back door.

"Dad wants to go over the background info he's been able to gather on the Padovanos and Turners."

Vanessa sighed, again. So much for a relaxing, lazy afternoon.

Joe gave her a hopeful smile. "You can just stay out here and relax, Van. There's really no reason for you to come back to Ithaca with us today."

Pulling away from Joe, Vanessa grunted in irritation. "Don't even go there. I'm going to Ithaca and you aren't going to change my mind."

"Please, Van," Joe's blue eyes were pleading.

She pushed past him and Frank, and headed to Fenton's office without bothering to respond.

nhnhnhnhnhnh

Frank folded the blueprints for the office building where TNT was housed and tucked it back into the accordion file of materials his father had given them before leaving Bayport. It turned out that the Turners owned the building. In fact, they owned a lot of properties around Ithaca – a surprising number.

From the file he extracted two stacks of three by five index cards and lay them on the table in front of him. One stack was blank. The other contained all of the scattered bits of information that they had gathered individually and together over the last week regarding Eliza Morgan Drew's life.

He looked at Nancy, Joe and Vanessa, all gathered around the kitchen table at the Lavender Lady. Joe's face was screwed up into a grimace.

"We're doing the fact tree exercise? Really?"

He knew Joe hated this kind of thing but their investigation had been so fragmented up to this point. Frank was intent that they go over everything they had learned and make sure they were all on the same page going into this plan of Nancy's. He hoped the exercise would get any unshared pieces of the puzzle onto the table now, while they still had the luxury of making adjustments to the plan.

"I've already condensed all of the facts from Dad's background work onto cards. I also transcribed all of the notes from what Nan and I have done as well as what I recalled of what you and Van have uncovered." He passed several blank cards to each of them, along with pens. "Now we go through everything and add whatever is missing. Hypothetical conclusions are highlighted in yellow so we don't confuse them with facts. Everyone understand the exercise?"

The next few hours were grueling but worthwhile as they organized what they knew about Eliza's life and acquaintances. Despite a significant amount of data the exercise also revealed some rather gaping holes in their information and half-formed hypotheses.

Nancy stood and stretched. "Your dad said that based on what he was able to unearth about Tiffany Turner she's a true philanthropist. What about her husband, Nick Turner? What do we know about him?"

Frank glanced over the information his father had gathered on the owners of TNT, which was disturbingly sparse, in his opinion.

"Dad said that they hadn't found much about Nick Turner, yet. He's still digging, though. Apparently Nick's not an Ithaca native."

"Well, I guess at this point what I'm really wondering is whether we let Turners in on my cover or play it close to the chest and leave them in the dark," Nancy said.

"Barring better intel, I think we should leave them in the dark," Frank said firmly. "The less people that know who you really are the safer you'll be."

"Do you think the Turners could be involved?" Nancy asked. "I mean, it sounded like Tiffany Turner is really committed to helping other foster kids once they exit the system. I can't imagine she'd be knowingly involved in whatever exploitation scam the Padovanos have going."

Joe shook his head. "I think the Turners are still too much of a wild card. I'm with Frank. You'll be safer the fewer people who know who you really are."

Frank was nodding thoughtfully. "Like Joe said, they are definite wild cards. Dad's barely scratched the surface when it comes to digging into the Turner's holdings and business interests which are substantial. That, in and of itself, makes me a little nervous about them. They may be philanthropists but they are also very well off. Where does a foster kid fresh out of the system find the capital to finance a startup like TNT? Let alone make a boat load of cash in the process."

"That's twenty years in the past. Maybe they're just smart investors," Nancy said.

"Yeah," Joe said. "twenty years ago, right around the time your mom was exiting the system. The Mama's Kitchen connection could be coincidental. But it could also be critical."

"Your father found no connection between Callisto Padovano and the Turners other than as client/customer," Nancy said.

"So far," Frank countered. "Like I said, he's barely scratched the surface. And the Turners hold a lot of business interests in and around Ithaca. There are too many unknowns there. They stay in the dark for now."

Nancy shrugged her acceptance. "Fine, Turners remain in the dark. It doesn't make a whole lot of difference to the plan, anyway. I just thought it might be useful to get a look at the TNT files regarding Mama's Kitchen."

"We can approach them for information once we know more," Frank said.

"So what's the plan for tomorrow?" Vanessa piped up.

"Well, I think we're agreed that I'm going to have to be the one watching the diner," Frank said. "And Joe will keep an eye on things at TNT while Nancy makes her entrance."

Nancy sighed. "I'm not sure why Joe has to tag along."

"Indulge me, Nan," Frank said.

Vanessa's smile was content. "That means the Grace Murphy-Hilyer interview is all mine. Maybe Anna would like to come keep me company on the drive up to Rochester."

Frank cringed at the furious look that flashed across his brother's face and hurried to head off an argument regarding Vanessa's involvement.

"Why don't you go try Grace again, Van? It would be nice if you could get something set up for mid to late morning tomorrow. The more information we can gather early on the better."

Van took the card Frank held out and made her way to the phone in the living room. Frank turned a reproving look on his brother.

"Don't even start, Joe. We have enough to deal with without you getting all hairy about Van being here. Interviewing Grace should be a pretty routine task and you said yourself that she's a natural. Just let it go."

Joe's mouth opened and closed a couple times but he must have decided not to argue.

Nancy ran her hands back through her hair and let out a frustrated sigh. "I just wish I could wrap my head around what the Padovanos are up to. Pretty, young, unconnected girls hooking up with college guys. But it doesn't seem like your typical brothel setup or even escort service."

Joe shrugged. "He does set the girls up in apartments located right behind the diner. Pretty convenient for any johns."

"But it sounds like the girls are very happy there," Nancy said. "And if he had that kind of operation going then there'd be street intel that would point to it and your dad didn't even find a hint of anything."

Frank stared at the cards scattered across the table, trying to make sense out of what they had learned. It felt like they were missing a critical piece of the puzzle, a missing link that would pull the disjointed parts into a cohesive whole. And it made him incredibly nervous about sending Nancy undercover.

"Maybe we should see what we can learn from Grace Murphy-Hilyer before we go down this path. We could head up there tonight –"

"I'm afraid not," Vanessa said from the kitchen door. "Grace is out of town and out of touch. I talked to her younger daughter. Apparently Grace and her husband are on a weekend trip to celebrate their anniversary. I asked her daughter to have her get back to me on my cell first thing tomorrow morning about a visit. I told her it was important."

Frank glanced at Nancy hopefully. "We could just put it off a day. What's one more day?"

"What's the point of waiting?" Nancy asked. "Even if Grace can shed some light on what's going on at Mama's Kitchen it doesn't negate the usefulness of having me undercover there."

Frank couldn't think of a good argument against that logic. He sighed.

Nancy leaned down and kissed the top of his head. "Give it up, Hardy. We move forward as planned tomorrow."

Joe stood and stretched. "We should hit the hay now and get an early start in the morning."

Vanessa and Joe left to head upstairs. Frank felt Nancy's arm around his shoulders. "Are you coming to bed?"

"In awhile. I'm a little wired. I'm going to run through the info one more time while I pick up and then I'll join you."

"Do you want me to go over it with you?"

He gave her an assessing once over. "You look wiped out, Nan. I'll be fine. You should go on to bed."

Nancy leaned down and gave him a lingering kiss. "Don't be too long."

Frank watched her leave and then turned back to the kitchen table, reading through each card as he gathered them into sorted stacks of related facts. When he was done, he banded them together and went upstairs, turning off lights as he went.

He stripped down to his boxers and t-shirt and slipped into bed next to Nancy. Her deep, even breathing was a sure indication that she was already asleep. He rolled on his side and watched her sleep as disorderly facts swirled about in his mind, stubbornly refusing to settle into any recognizable pattern. Sleep was equally as elusive.

It was going to be a long night.

Frank woke to the sound of the bathroom door closing. He lifted his head and Nancy smiled at him from where she was sitting near the foot of the bed putting on socks and shoes.

He groaned. "What time is it?"

"Six a.m." Nancy said. "What time did you come to bed?"

"An hour or so after you," he said. "Still couldn't sleep."

Nancy moved to the side of the bed and looked down at him, brows furrowed. "Nightmares, again?"

Frank sighed. "I couldn't shut down and then when I finally did, Bucciano was there to greet me."

"I really think you should go see Dr. Chase when we get back to Bayport."

"Right now I'm more worried about the immediate future. Is Joe up?"

"Yes. And so is Vanessa. She and Anna are already making plans to leave and call Grace on their way to Rochester."

"Where did you get that?" He asked indicating the battered army-green backpack Nancy had packed and sitting on the dresser.

"Arthur loaned it to me," Nancy said as she picked it up and slung it over her shoulder. "What do you think? Do I look the part of the isolated, vulnerable foster kid?"

Dressed in a pair of faded jeans, with layered t-shirts, red over white, ratty white canvas tennis shoes and a baseball cap on her head Nancy definitely dressed the part.

"The baseball cap and gum chewing are a nice touch."

Nancy cracked her gum. "Thanks."

"Don't forget to leave your cell."

"Yes, Frank."

"Do you have the prepaid cell phone we picked up for you?"

"Yes, Frank."

His lips curved up. "Hm, I think I'm on a roll. Are you going to be careful?"

"Yes, Frank."

Nancy dropped the backpack on the floor by the bed. Frank opened his arms and she flopped into them. Pulling her onto his chest he looked into her pretty blue eyes.

"Seriously, please promise me you're going to be careful."

"Cross my heart and –"

"Don't!" Frank put a hand over her mouth. "Jeez, Nan, that's not funny."

She propped her chin in her hand, her smile apologetic. "I'll be careful. I promise. I'll even seal it with a kiss"

As she leaned down and pressed her lips to his, he felt some of the tension abate. He slid his fingers up into her hair, pushing off the baseball cap as he deepened the kiss.

She pulled back and pushed herself to her feet, jamming the cap back onto her head. "Stop trying to steal my gum, Hardy."

Frank grinned up at her. "That's what I call a promise."

She picked up the backpack and headed for the door. "Better get that cute butt of yours out of bed and get moving."

nhnhnhnhnhnh

Joe gave Vanessa a kiss as she and Anna prepared to get in the car to leave for Rochester.

"Keep us posted on how things are going, babe."

"I will. You be careful."

Joe grinned. "I'm always careful."

"Behave yourself, Joseph Hardy," Vanessa said severely.

Watching until the car disappeared from view, Joe kept telling himself that Vanessa was going to be fine. It didn't help.

Back in the house, Joe found Nancy and Frank, foreheads touching and arms wrapped around each other.

He flashed them a rueful grin. "Come on, Nan. We better hit the road."

Frank leaned down and kissed her. "Remember your promise."

Nancy turned away and picked up her backpack. "A little faith, Hardy. Have a little faith."

"I have lots of faith . . . in us, when we work as a team. Just stick to the plan and stay safe," Frank said. "That goes for both of you. And keep me posted."

"Sure, bro. Have fun at Mama's Kitchen."

Frank followed them out to the car and gave Nancy one last kiss before she got in, entreating her once again to be careful. Joe could see him standing in the drive watching them until they turned the corner.

He gave a dry chuckle. "Frank is just a tad freaked over this little excursion of yours."

"Little excursion, huh? I like that. Mind if I use it?"

"Be my guest."

They drove in silence for several minutes before Joe ventured another comment, "Frank looked pretty tired . . ."

Nancy took a deep breath and blew it out, obviously exasperated with his older brother. "He had trouble getting to sleep last night and then when he did, he had a nightmare, again."

Joe shook his head. "I was really hoping that once he talked to you about the nightmares maybe they would just . . . go away."

"You really thought one little talk with me was going to make Frank all better?"

"A guy can hope," Joe muttered.

"It might help if he really talked about them," Nancy said irritably and then turned in her seat slightly so she could face Joe. "Here's what Frank told me, Joe. The nightmares are about some scum from his past taking revenge on someone he cares about. Apparently Bucciano told him in some detail what his brother would like to do to me. That's the most common nightmare but the target and the scum vary. And _that_ is about all Frank really told me. He was unwilling to share any details about the nightmares or about what Bucciano did to him."

"So he didn't really tell you anything? Typical Frank. He really can take the over-protective thing a little too far." Joe shook his head in frustration.

"Maybe you could talk to him? Get him to open up more."

"I've tried, Nan. He's not any more cooperative with me than he is with you," Joe's voice snapped with worry. "Bucciano really got to him."

Nancy sank back into the seat, her expression self-accusing. "And then something like this comes up. He's going to be totally strung out by the time it's over and it's all my fault."

"Oh jeez, don't you start," Joe said. "This is what you do, Nan, and you do it pretty darn well. In his head, Frank knows that. He even said as much to your father. He just needs to work through this issue, that's all."

Nancy's lips turned up into a slight smile. "Thanks, Joe."

"Just affording my future sister-in-law the benefit of my vast experience dealing with my over-protective brother," Joe said with a smirk. "You're marrying that, you know. Stuck with the worrier of the duo for life."

"I thought you were a matched set," Nancy said. "After all, you've been henpecking Vanessa no end for the last week."

Joe pressed his lips into a thin line. "There is a huge difference between Vanessa getting involved in this mess and you. You are a trained investigator and Van is just . . . just fumbling her way through."

Nancy shrugged. "She's done pretty well so far. You even said so yourself, kind of. Were we any different when we started?"

Joe was getting angry, now. Nancy had done nothing but encourage Vanessa from the time she arrived. "You know it occurs to me that Vanessa's involvement is your fault. At every turn you've aided and abetted her desire to stay involved in this investigation. All so you can learn more about your mother? She is not a detective, Nancy. She doesn't know what she's doing and you involved her in a murder investigation – a murder investigation!"

"Feel better now?"

Nancy's expression was mildly amused which just served to irritate Joe more.

"What's so freaking funny?"

"You."

"You're pissing me off, Nan."

"You're projecting, Joe."

"What?"

"You think you're pissed at me but you're really pissed at yourself for getting Vanessa involved in the first place. You're the one that used her as an excuse to get to Ithaca, not me."

"But I did it for you! And I'm also the one who told her to back off once it went from fact-finding to murder investigating."

"So when things got really interesting you just expected her to step aside and be a good little girl? If I were Van that would piss me off. Get a grip, Joe. You're no less over-protective than Frank when it comes to Vanessa and you know it."

Joe's grip on the steering wheel had become white-knuckled. Unable to come up with an adequate response to Nancy's accusation he grunted in irritation. He _had_ been the one to bring Van to Ithaca in the first place. And he _had_ expected her to just step aside when the investigation took a turn toward murder. He was worried about her. Wasn't that his prerogative?

"My concerns about Vanessa's involvement are valid," he finally ground out.

Nancy crossed her arms and stared out the window. "Are Frank's concerns any less valid?"

Joe snorted. "Actually, probably more so."

Nancy's head snapped around and she glared at him. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Joe felt himself relax as he got Nancy spun up. It served her right, anyway.

"At least Vanessa is passive about her involvement. You . . . you actively look for trouble."

"I'm not looking for trouble. I'm looking for answers."

"Ok. Well, despite what you may be looking for, you find trouble."

Nancy raised an eyebrow at him. "Like you and Frank are any different."

"I didn't say we were," Joe said with a grin.

It was almost seven thirty. Joe turned down a side street several blocks from TNT and pulled to the curb.

He looked at Nancy, all business. "Do you have your prepaid cell phone?"

"Yes, Joe. Do you have the number?"

Joe pulled out his cell and confirmed the number in his contacts, just to make sure. "All set. I'll be in position in . . . jeez, given this traffic you better give me an hour. I'll see you at about eight thirty."

"Ok," Nancy said as she got out of the car. She slammed the door and then leaned down to look through the open window. "I'm sorry I pushed about Vanessa, Joe. I know you're just worried about her."

"I didn't say you were wrong about why I was pissed," Joe said with an apologetic smile. "I just don't need it thrown in my face."

"Or maybe you did."

Joe raised an eyebrow at her. "Remember who's at your back, little sister."

"I know who has my back, Joe. Otherwise I wouldn't be so relaxed about this little excursion of mine." Nancy tapped the roof and stood back from the car. "I'll see you in an hour."

Leaning down, Joe caught her eye. "Be careful, Nan."

She smiled and waved as he pulled away from the curb. Circling the block where TNT was located it took him all of the next forty minutes, to find a parking spot on the street within sight of the TNT office building. He fed change into the parking meter, grabbed his pack and locked the car.

For the next ten minutes he joined the crowds rushing to work, strolling back and forth past the entrance to the office building that housed TNT. He even detoured around the back of the building, finding a small, fenced in parking area accessible with a key card through a gated entry.

Finally, he entered the lobby. Walking up to the building directory, he read through the various office tenants while surreptitiously confirming the lobby layout. The TNT offices were located on floors six through eight, with various smaller tenant offices sharing the floors below TNT and an adoption agency occupying the two floors above it. A bank of two elevators fed directly into the lobby behind the main reception desk.

There was a small waiting area off to the side in the corner beside another reception window for an Occupational Health office that occupied the bottom floor suite. A hall beside the elevators had a sign over it announcing 'Building Administration.' The hall led to a locked door and Joe noticed that the guard sitting behind the main reception desk had to buzz people through that particular door.

The waiting area was already filling up, mostly with young people, though there were a few older workers among them. Joe took a seat as far from the reception window as he could get, in a chair facing the elevators.

Joe pulled a newspaper out of his pack and made himself comfortable. Within minutes he saw Nancy walk through the doors and up to the guard who directed her to the elevators.

With a smirk he pulled out his cell and texted his brother, 'The game is afoot.'

In less than a minute he received a text back.

'Not a game, Sherlock. Keep sharp.'

nhnhnhnhnhnh

Nancy fiddled with the excess strap on the backpack as she approached the reception desk in the TNT offices. The young woman behind the desk was in her mid to late twenties and smiled encouragingly at Nancy when she noticed her.

"Hi, there. Can I help you?"

"Yeah, um, yes. Ms. Lawson sent me. She told me to ask for Tiffany Turner."

"I'm afraid Mrs. Turner isn't available. Mr. Turner is in, though. Are you looking for a job?"

"Um, yes. I need a job."

"Your name?"

"Nancy Miller."

She jotted the name down and stood. "Mr. Turner does most of the initial intake interviews. He's usually scheduled several days in advance. Have a seat and I'll see if he can fit you in today."

Nancy joined the one other person sitting in the waiting area. It would make Frank happy if she couldn't get in for several days, she thought with a frustrated frown. She grabbed a magazine from a nearby table and settled down to wait.

Less than ten minutes later the receptionist greeted Nick Turner as he walked out into the waiting room. He was a well-built, handsome man with black hair that Nancy suspected was dyed to remove the gray. His dark gray eyes registered her presence with interest but he bypassed her to address the waiting young man.

By the time Nick Turner came out again Nancy had exhausted the meager reading material in the waiting room and was slouched in her chair, eyes half closed with the baseball cap pulled low so the brim shaded her face.

He stopped directly in front of her, feet shoulder width apart and arms crossed. "Ms. Miller, is it?"

Nancy pushed herself to an upright position and avoided his direct gaze. "Yeah, um, yes. I'm Nancy Miller. Pru, uh, Ms. Lawson sent me over. She said there was a place in Richford that offered a job and a room. Mama's Kitchen? I thought maybe I could get a job there but she said they only hire through this place."

"Really? Well, young lady, I talked with Ms. Lawson. She confirmed that she did send you over. However, she also said that she couldn't really vouch for you since you had removed yourself from the system about a year ago. Run away, as I understand it."

Licking her lips nervously, Nancy just nodded. Pru had done her part to lay the groundwork for Nancy Miller's back story. Nancy just had to play the part.

"Nothing to say for yourself?"

"I had to try to . . . make it on my own."

"And now?"

Nancy lifted her chin. "I still want to make it on my own. But . . . I need some help. I need a job and a place to live and . . ."

"A high school diploma would be a good start."

"I need money to live on worse than I need a diploma." Nancy crossed her arms and flashed him a defiant glare.

Nick Turner crouched in front of her, lips pressed into a thin line. "Young lady, I can help you but we're going to get one thing straight – we do this my way or you're back out on the street. Do you read me?"

Nancy shifted. He was invading her personal space and it made her uncomfortable. "Back off, man."

"You may call me Mr. Turner. If we get past this attitude of yours, I might even let you call me Nick. I'm here to help you, Nancy, but you have to be willing to help yourself."

Nancy waited several beats before whispering, "Alright."

"What was that? I couldn't hear you." Nick caught and held her gaze.

"I said, 'alright.'"

With a satisfied nod, he stood. "Mama's Kitchen might be a good option for you."

"They really have a place where I could afford to live?" Nancy asked hopefully.

He nodded as he reached forward and took the hat off her head. "Yes, they do. And we don't wear hats inside, particularly not when we want a job."

Freed from the hat, Nancy's hair cascaded over her shoulders and Nick Turner stared at her for several seconds. His eyes narrowed and he motioned her to follow.

"I have some paperwork I'll need you to fill out and a few more questions I want to ask."

In another room, Nick had her sit down at a student desk and handed her a file folder with forms in it. "I need you to fill these out and . . ." He turned and shuffled through a file drawer for a few seconds before turning around with yet another form. "This is an application for the GED. We do not do permanent placements for anyone without a high school diploma or equivalent. You either pass the test within the next six months, or you're out. Understood?"

"Yes," Nancy said meekly.

"Good."

He stopped to review the documents that the guy ahead of her had finished and escorted him out. At the door, Nick stopped and looked back at her.

"You look very familiar, Nancy. Have we met before?"

"I don't think so."

"Hm? Well, I'll be back in a little while to check on you. I'll need a copy of a photo ID and your birth certificate if you have it."

Nancy nodded and then bent over the forms.

Out in reception, Nick Turner showed the young man out before turning to the receptionist.

"I need to step out for a few minutes. Keep an eye on her."

"Yes, sir."

NH

A/N: Thank you to those who reviewed last chapter: Agent Striker, Teish, marbleandtoast, Smithy (Very sweet – and it's good to know she's recovering), JackieJacks, bhar, Confidential Brunette, Princess In Love, and smilingspaz (I agree, women in general have a very warped view of their bodies and what is attractive – blame it on the air-brushed and photo-shopped reality we're fed every day!).

I also really appreciate those who put the story on alert or favorite!


	25. Chapter 24

Disclaimer: I don't own Nancy Drew or the Hardy Boys. The OCs are all mine, for what that's worth.

Happy reading!

**Chapter 24: Sins & Salvation**

The woman who answered the door was pretty in a very plain way, dressed in a t-shirt and faded jeans with slippers on her feet. Her out-of-a-bottle auburn hair fell to the middle of her back in unruly waves that had obviously not been tamed by a professional beautician in awhile. Her face was open and friendly though there was a guardedness obvious in her hazel-green eyes.

Vanessa held out her hand. "Grace? I'm Vanessa Bender and this is Anna Haggerty. I spoke to you on the phone earlier. Thank you so much for agreeing to meet with us on such short notice."

Grace shook the offered hands and then opened the door to the tiny bungalow wide. "I have to admit, I was surprised to hear Eliza's name after all these years."

They followed Grace into a cozy living room filled with mismatched furniture. The only new item in the room was the large, flat-screen television hanging on the wall that had obviously replaced the old television that still sat in the corner.

"Can I get you anything to drink?" Grace asked.

They both declined and their hostess sat in a glider rocker as Vanessa and Anna took seats on the couch.

"I just can't believe Lizzy's dead," Grace said. "I mean, I wondered why she stopped coming around but I thought . . . it doesn't matter what I thought. Lizzy tried to keep her new life in Chicago separate from her old life. She was always saying that the only way to live life was forward. It had to be hard on her daughter, though. Growing up without a mom. I feel terrible that I didn't even know. I hope you'll tell her how sorry I am. Really, truly sorry."

Grace seemed uncomfortable and Vanessa decided maybe she should start off with some innocuous background questions first.

"I'm sure Nancy will appreciate that, Grace. I was hoping maybe you could start by telling us how you met Eliza."

Grace's full mouth turned up in a spontaneous smile. "Lizzy wasn't like anyone I'd ever met in group home. A lot of the kids were lifers, like me – never really knew a stable home life, you know? Lizzy, though, she was determined to find another real home like she had with her folks . . . before her baby brother was kidnapped, anyway."

"She told you about Zachary?" Anna asked.

"She never talked about him a whole lot – it made her sad. But she told me all about her life before Zack was kidnapped. It sounded like she had an incredible family at one point. She was angry about what happened to her brother – to her whole family, really. Sometimes it was almost like she was angry at Zack but Lizzy was a smart one – she knew it wasn't his fault. You just can't always control those kinds of feelings. Like me, I was angry at the world when I met Lizzy. I'm not exaggerating when I say that she saved my life."

Grace stopped and shifted before standing abruptly. "You sure I can't get you nothing to drink?"

Vanessa smiled at the woman. "No, thanks, we're fine, really. You were telling us how you knew Lizzy. It sounds like you were good friends."

Sinking back into the rocker, Grace said, "Lizzy and me did become really good friends. I was just a couple years older than her and we bumped along together through the system. She had this idea that she was going to find a foster family that could replace her parents. She was always disappointed, though. I tried to tell her."

"Did that cause her to lose hope?" Vanessa felt a great deal of empathy with Eliza Morgan and couldn't help the sadness that sounded in her voice.

Grace looked at Vanessa with a thoughtful smile as she relaxed back into her chair. "You know that was the amazing thing about Lizzy. She never lost hope. She was . . . what's the word I'm thinking of? Determined? We both ended up back in group a few times together – we even got placed at one home together – and she never, ever lost sight of what she wanted. She even helped _me_ find some hope for the future. She used to tell me that life was what you make of it."

"Sounds like she was very optimistic," Vanessa said.

"No, that's not the right word. Determined, like I said. Lizzy had a real dark side and optimistic is not a word I'd use to describe her. Hopeful maybe, and determined definitely. But she was convinced that it took hard work to make the life you wanted. It wasn't just going to come to her – she thought that more and more the older she got. I guess, in a way, the system took its toll on her. She never gave up the dream, though – even after she graduated."

"What do you mean?" Vanessa asked.

"That guy she ended up marrying, Carson, she said he made her dream come true. She may never have found a family like she had as a kid but she said he helped her create a family like that. She said he was the best thing that had ever happened to her."

"You two kept in touch after Eliza moved to Chicago?"

"Kind of. Lizzy would visit sporadically, just to check up, you know. But she really wanted to put her life in Ithaca behind her and I tried to respect that. I knew it wasn't because she didn't care about me. By then we both had our own lives to live. Lizzy always said there was no sense in looking back when you had so much looking forward to do."

"You said you and Eliza bumped through the system together. What happened after you graduated?"

"She and I ended up working at the same place –" Grace faltered.

Van asked, "Mama's Kitchen in Richford?"

A shade dropped in Grace's eyes but she nodded. "Yes. I had . . . a bad experience there before she came. She actually came to help me cope. Anyway, it made me very hesitant to get involved with anyone, again. But then, one day, Kyle walked in and asked me out for dinner. He's a trucker and had a regular run from upstate to NYC and would sometimes stop in the diner, so I knew him. I never thought he was interested, though I guess he was. I mean, He actually came all the way down to Richford on his day off to ask me out."

"That's so sweet," Vanessa said.

Grace heaved a rueful sigh. "Yeah, it was sweet. But I turned him down. Lizzy happened to be on-shift with me that day. She dragged me into the back and gave me what-for. I ended up going out on that date with him and . . . well, we've been happily married ever since. Twenty-two years, now."

Van knew this was likely to be a sensitive subject. "You said you had a bad experience. I hate to dredge up difficult memories, Grace, but I think it could be really important for us to know what happened. If you feel up to sharing I'd really appreciate it."

Grace stared at Van for several seconds before standing. She wrapped her arms around herself and began to pace. "I . . . I had been working at Mama's Kitchen for almost a year. It's a really great . . . it _was_ a really great place to work. Callisto was a real sweetheart – gave us a cheap place to live and taught us how to do our job so that our customers were happy and tipped well. He even paid minimum wage, which for a waitressing job, at the time, was unheard of."

"Anyway, it was October. The college crowd had started coming in regularly again, and I . . . I met this guy, Stuart. He was charming and handsome and . . ." Grace took a deep breath and turned sad eyes on Van and Anna. "I thought he was the one, you know. He was the first guy I'd met outside the system. I thought he loved me. And then –"

When she didn't continue, Van gently prompted, "What happened, Grace?"

Grace's chin quivered. "I got pregnant and he called me a little whore and told me to get lost. I was so devastated. What was I going to do with a kid and a minimum wage job? And that bastard wouldn't even help – and I knew he had money. His parents owned a chain of sporting goods stores."

She dropped into her rocking chair and buried her face in her hands. "I was so humiliated."

Vanessa hurried over and crouched by Grace's side. Anna followed more slowly.

Van patted Grace's back. "What a jerk! What did you do?"

Grace lifted her face and accepted the tissue that Anna offered. "Callisto was . . . wonderful. He told me not to worry. He went and talked to Stu and – well, he couldn't change Stu's mind about not wanting anything to do with me but he did get some money out of the deadbeat. Callisto was always great that way. He handed me a thousand dollars cash and told me that he would help me through the pregnancy."

"And the child?" Anna asked.

Grace looked down. "It turned out to be a false alarm. Cal told me to keep the money – Stu and his family wouldn't miss it anyway. I know it was wrong but he hurt me so bad."

She looked up at Vanessa, eyes begging for forgiveness. "I would have given the money back if Stu had once come to check on me but he never did. He didn't care. I felt like such a fool."

Van patted her hand. "That's why you were so reluctant to go out with Kyle."

Grace chuckled dryly, "Yes. But like Lizzy said, Kyle is nothing like Stuart. Like night and day. Thank God!"

Van and Anna returned to their seats on the couch as Grace mopped up the tears.

She sighed and gave them a tremulous smile. "You know, there's something freeing about admitting what happened with Stu. That whole thing was such an awful experience. I don't know what I would have done if Callisto hadn't helped me through it. That's why I find it so hard to believe that he could be doing anything illegal. He was like – the caring father-figure none of us had ever really had. He wouldn't hurt any of the girls that worked for him – he just wouldn't."

Vanessa refrained from pointing out that extorting money from a man was illegal. The truth was she felt like Stuart owed it to Grace for being such a jerk. But that didn't make it any less wrong.

In her head, Vanessa went over her and Frank's conversation about the things she should try and learn from Grace. She realized with a start that there had been no mention of Grace and Eliza's other friend within the system.

"Grace, what about Mary Boroski? You haven't mentioned her."

Grace stood, her face a stony mask. "I don't remember her. Really, I have a lot to do today. If that's all I think you should leave."

The change was startling and Vanessa stood as well. She crossed her arms and faced the woman.

"Why the sudden change in attitude, Grace? Where is Mary Boroski?"

Full mouth compressed into a thin line, Grace leveled Vanessa with a wary, calculating gaze.

"Who are you, really?" She finally asked.

"I told you, Grace. I'm a friend of Eliza's daughter, Nancy Drew," Vanessa answered. "Pru Lawson told Nancy that Mary Boroski was a close friend of yours and Eliza's. That's why I was surprised you haven't mentioned her."

Grace's face cleared marginally but she still seemed very much on guard. "Pru told you about her, huh? That makes sense. But, well, I'm sorry, Mary Boroski is . . . gone."

"Gone?" Vanessa was very confused. "Gone as in dead?"

There was a long pause. "You're really friends of Lizzy's daughter? That's why you're here?"

"Yes, Grace. What's going on? What's happened to Mary Boroski?"

"I promised Lizzy," she said quietly.

"What did you promise her, dear?" Anna broke in gently.

Grace considered them both for several long seconds before apparently deciding they were trustworthy. "Mary Boroski no longer exists. But if you're interested in friends of Eliza Morgan you might want to talk to Marianne Beam. She lives just the other side of town."

Grace walked to a nearby table and jotted something on a note pad lying next to the phone. She ripped the page off and held it out to Vanessa.

"I'll call Marianne and let her know you're coming."

nhnhnhnhnhnh

Vanessa's ring tone put a smile on Joe's face. "Hey, babe. How are you?"

"I'm fine. Frank told me to give you a call and brief you on what we've learned so far."

Joe couldn't help but be impressed with Vanessa's succinct summary of what she had learned from Grace Hilyer as well as her theories about what it meant.

Van took a deep breath. "Anyway, Anna and I are at Marianne Beam's now, so I'm going to let you go."

"Please be careful, babe," Joe said.

"If what I suspect is true then I really don't see where I have anything to be worried about. Our biggest problem is going to be convincing Marianne that she should talk to us. Wish me luck!"

Joe smiled and obliged, "Luck, but I don't think you need it. I think you could charm the Pope out of his ring if you put your mind to it. I love you, babe."

"I love you, too." Van rang off and Joe closed the phone. He still wasn't thrilled with her involvement but he had to admit that it was handy having her along to run down these leads while he, Frank and Nancy were otherwise occupied.

He had been waiting now for nearly two hours and was beginning to get antsy. Nancy had texted him a few minutes ago to let him know she was still upstairs, still filling out paperwork. He decided to drop her a quick text. If she was alone maybe she could call him so he could fill her in.

She called moments later. He only had time to give her the bare bones of Grace's story and Van's suspicions about Marianne Beam before she hissed that someone was coming and hung up.

Joe sighed and settled back, holding the newspaper up in front of his face but not really reading it. Though people watching was a pastime he didn't really mind, after two hours of watching people come and go Joe was ready to do some coming or going himself. The only thing keeping him rooted to this spot was knowing that his brother would kill him if something happened to Nancy and Joe was out wandering around instead of at his assigned station.

Shoving the paper back into his pack, Joe decided to work off some nervous energy with a quick walk around the lobby. He was on his way to check out the building directory again, when a middle-aged man in a shabby three-piece suit with sandy hair and a round face bumped into him with a mumbled apology. Joe had a fleeting impression that he should know the guy but couldn't recall from where. So he pulled out his cell to take a quick snapshot of him. Maybe Frank would be able to jog his memory.

The man entered the elevator alone. Joe watched as the doors closed. The elevator went to the ninth floor and stopped. Glancing at the directory, Joe noted that the adoption agency was on that floor. With a shrug he headed back to his seat to resume his station.

Man, did he hate stake outs.

nhnhnhnhnhnh

Frank watched as the last of the morning rush at Mama's Kitchen pulled out of the parking lot. He shouldered his pack and stepped out of the car, deciding that now was as good a time as any to go check out the storage locker he had watched Callisto Padovano enter twice early this morning.

He strolled down the sidewalk in front of the diner, continuing down the next block before turning the corner. He made his way around the block to approach Mama's Kitchen from the side street.

The apartments behind the diner that served as living quarters for the waitresses were accessed by a dirt drive that led off the side street. The storage locker Frank had seen Padovano enter this morning was basically a garage at the street end of the row of apartments.

With a quick glance around to make sure no one was watching, Frank strode past the padlocked main entry next to the closed overhead door and slid into the weeds and overgrown shrubs behind the building.

A dirty window with bars over it was centered on the back wall of the garage. Frank peered around the open bay. It was a standard width one-car garage but was at least half a car length deeper than usual. The interior was very clean and orderly.

There were rows of metal shelving in the rear portion of the garage that from Frank's limited range of vision appeared to be loaded with boxes of restaurant supplies and dried and canned goods. Additional boxes lined the other two walls of the garage, with wooden pallets holding bags of potatoes, onions and carrots lined up in the area where a car would normally sit.

In short, it looked like a storage locker for a restaurant. Lacking any other smoking gun in the visible portion of the garage, Frank decided that it would be worthwhile to gain entry and take a closer look at what he couldn't see.

Making short work of picking the padlock, Frank hung it back in the latch so it appeared locked and slipped into the garage undetected. He checked his watch and marked the time – he didn't want to be in here too long. Frank nearly jumped out of his skin when his cell buzzed as he was making his way to the back of the garage. He made a mental note to check the message when he got back to the car.

Along the very back wall Frank found sets of shelves filled with file boxes. There were far too many for him to look through but it was encouraging. He wandered down the row, reading through the labels on each box. Most appeared to contain historic diner financial and personnel records. He poked through a couple of the personnel files but didn't find anything immediately interesting and moved on.

He found two anomalous boxes of pregnancy tests on a lower shelf, nestled among the file boxes. One of the boxes was marked with a plus sign, the other with a plus slash minus. He puzzled over them briefly but his attention was quickly drawn to a windowed door near the end of the row that opened into a small office area.

The door was locked with an armed alarm system. Frank studied it for several minutes, his mind mulling over why this office had a security system while the garage itself was just padlocked, even as he tried to figure out how to get inside.

Following the leads out of the alarm pad, Frank gave a satisfied smirk. Opening his pack, he pulled out a couple of wire leads. He opened his pocket knife and, after checking the time, he set to work. With some careful manipulations he was able to disarm the alarm, smiling when the amber light turned to green.

He checked the time again. He only had a few more minutes left on his self-imposed time limit. Inside the room he found a good-sized safe in one corner and next to it several locked filing cabinets.

The filing cabinet locks were easy enough to pick. Frank opened the first, quickly flipping through the contents. The files were labeled with last names and each contained at least one ledger of what appeared to be monetary amounts. Each separate ledger had another name on it and what really confused him was that the names on the ledgers did not match the names on the files. He opened the next drawer and the next, looking for anything to give him a clue about who or what the ledgers were for.

It was the last drawer he opened – the one in the bottom of the far left filing cabinet – that caught his eye. Near the back of the drawer he found a file labeled 'Murphy, G.' and a few files further forward a file labeled 'Morgan, E.' The Morgan file had a ledger inside with the name 'Drew, Carson' at the top with an Ithaca address. Other than that, the ledger was blank. The Murphy file also had a ledger page with the name 'Dunham, Stuart' at the top with an address and phone number, followed by several monetary entries. Frank pulled out his notebook and jotted down Stuart Dunham's information before replacing the file.

Searching through the same drawer, he was again puzzled. Assuming the 'Murphy' file was for Grace Murphy and the 'Morgan' file was for Eliza Morgan, Frank had assumed he'd find a file labeled 'Boroski' but he didn't. Maybe he was misinterpreting what he found.

He replaced the files and relocked the drawers, then exited the office. He carefully removed the leads before rearming the alarm. He made it out of the garage and back to the car without being detected.

As he settled into the seat to resume his vigil, he remembered the text he had received while snooping. He pulled out his cell and found he had received a pic-text from Joe. The text 'do u know' accompanied a fuzzy picture of a man getting ready to enter an elevator.

Frank turned the key in the ignition even as he hit the speed dial for his brother. He didn't give his brother chance to even say hello.

"Joe, that picture you sent me. It's Jim Bowers. He knows who Nancy is."

"I knew he looked familiar. Don't panic, big brother. He actually went up to the ninth floor, which is where an adoption agency is located. He probably works with them on adoption cases – you said he was a family lawyer, right?"

Frank swallowed the worst of his fear, allowing the logic of what Joe said quell his initial panic. There was really no reason to think Nancy was in any danger.

"Have you had any contact with Nancy? Is she still in the TNT offices?"

"Yeah. I talked to her a little bit ago – gave her a quick rundown on what Van learned. She was still working on intake paperwork."

Frank blew out a relieved breath but he was still unaccountably anxious. "Joe, I don't think there's anything I can really do here at Mama's Kitchen until Nan gets here. I'm going to head your direction. Would you do me a favor?"

"What?"

"Go up to the TNT offices and just make sure that Nan's ok."

Joe chuckled. "You got it, big brother."

nhnhnhnhnhnh

Nancy slid the cell phone back into her pocket and looked at the door expectantly. Joe's hasty summary of what Vanessa had learned from Grace answered the question about the scam at the diner – extortion. It all made sense, now.

But Mary Boroski raised a whole new set of questions. Nancy felt pretty confident that Vanessa was right to suspect that Marianne Beam and Mary Boroski were one and the same person. The reason for the identity change threw a whole new monkey wrench into what was going on at Mama's Kitchen.

Realizing no one was entering, Nancy sighed and closed the file with the completed forms. She bent down and rummaged in the backpack and found Nancy Miller's license and birth certificate and set them on top of the file. Then she stood and wandered around the room, too keyed up to sit still any longer.

The room she had been left in for the last hour and a half was an inner office that had been set up with half a dozen student desks, a couple white boards, a file cabinet with blank forms and various office supplies and that was about it. There were two exits from the room, plus a door into a back storage room.

When Nick walked back through the door, Nancy was once again sitting at the desk, rechecking the forms just to occupy her time. She noted with interest that he had donned a suit jacket over his shirt. It seemed odd.

"Finished?"

Nancy stacked the forms neatly, closed the file and handed everything to Nick. "I think that's everything."

"I'll be back in just a moment."

True to his word, he returned mere minutes later and sat on the working surface of the desk across from Nancy's. His gaze was cold and distant, a stark contrast to the warm concern he had projected when they first met.

"Tell me, Nancy, why are you here?"

"I told you –"

The door behind Nick opened and Jim Bowers stepped into the room. Nancy froze.

Nick leaned down so his face was within inches of hers. "Yes, you told me. Now I want the truth."

"Nick, I told you, she's just here to learn more about her mother!"

Jim sounded panicked and looking at the man whose face was currently consuming most of her field of vision she figured he had reason to be. Nick Turner could be charming when he wanted, he could seem kind and caring, but the sheep's clothing was slipping and the wolf was currently staring Nancy right in the face.

She also realized why he had put on his suit jacket – to hide the shoulder holster he was wearing. Grinding her teeth, she considered her options. They were pretty minimal.

"I came here to get a job, hopefully at Mama's Kitchen – where my mother worked after she graduated." Nancy said.

"Why?" Nick asked.

"Like Jim said, I'm trying to get to know my mother." Nancy held Nick's gaze steadily.

His hand flashed up and Nancy bit her tongue to keep from crying out when he grabbed her chin. "You aren't telling me something. Why are you so interested in Mama's Kitchen?"

Nancy jerked out of his grip and he let go but he didn't back off.

"We . . . I think they're exploiting the young women you send to them for employment."

"Really? How are they exploiting them?"

"I'm not sure. That's why I was going undercover. I considered telling you but decided to wait."

Nick stood and crossed his arms. "You said 'we' earlier. By 'we' do you mean you and your fiancé?"

There had probably been no avoiding that revelation. After all, Jim had met Frank himself.

"Yes."

"Where is your fiancé now?" Nick asked.

"Not here, obviously. He's running down other leads."

"Leads to what's going on at Mama's Kitchen?" Nick clarified, his tone carefully neutral.

Nancy looked first at Jim Bowers and then at Nick Turner. Jim's expression was an open book – concerned but sympathetic. Nick's was guarded and intense. She was walking a tight rope between how much to tell and how much to hold back.

"Yes. Not only did my mother work there after graduation but two friends of hers did as well – Grace Murphy and Mary Boroski. Grace is living up in Rochester and we're hoping to learn something more concrete from her."

Nick tried for a casual tone. "And where is Mary Boroski? I haven't heard from her in years. I remember placing her at Mama's Kitchen. She worked there for quite some time."

"We haven't located her."

"Really?" Nick said, his gaze disbelieving. "That's too bad."

Nancy concentrated to keep her expression carefully neutral. She got the distinct impression that Nick Turner would really like to find Mary Boroski.

And she seriously doubted it would be good for Mary's health.

NH

A/N: Thank you to those who reviewed last chapter: Severedwasp, marbleandtoast, Princess In Love, Confidential Brunette, JackieJacks, and smilingspaz.

I also really appreciate those who put the story on alert or favorite!

By the way, I did post a link to a picture on my profile of the inspiration for Nancy's wedding dress if anyone is interested.


	26. Chapter 25

Disclaimer: I don't own Nancy Drew or the Hardy Boys. The OCs are all mine, for what that's worth.

Happy reading!

**Chapter 25: Lifes & Lies**

Marianne Beam was blond-haired, blue-eyed and vivacious. Anyone who saw her would say she was beautiful. It wasn't the anorexic kind of beauty that the magazines tried to sell. Full-figured, though far from fat, Marianne was an incredibly striking woman even with the horde of children running around her house – maybe even because of it.

She ushered Vanessa and Anna into the large country kitchen at the rear of her clapboard farmhouse and sat them down at the old oak extension table with a pitcher of sun tea without even asking.

Marianne took a seat and looked at Vanessa, blatant curiosity apparent in her expressive face. "Grace told me you're a friend of Lizzy's daughter."

Van looked at the woman curiously. Like Grace, she seemed open and friendly – perhaps even more so than Grace – but the same guardedness was present in her gaze.

"Yes, Eliza was Nancy Drew's mother and Nancy's . . . well, actually she's going to be my sister-in-law in a few weeks. We're marrying two brothers."

Marianne's face broke into a wide smile. "How wonderful for you both! I remember my wedding days so fondly – even if my husbands did all wind up being real tools."

"How many times have you been married?" Van asked.

"Five. And they were not all tools," came an amused voice from the back door. A young woman who was a bit younger than Vanessa walked through. She was the spitting image of Marianne though she was less full-figured. "Mom just never has been able to settle down."

"Jillian, when did you get here?"

"I told you I'd be by before class today to pick up my laundry."

"Vanessa, Anna, I'd like you to meet my oldest daughter, Jillian. She's going to college for psychology but obviously they don't teach them how to do laundry." Marianne turned a comically chagrined expression on her daughter who smiled tolerantly at the teasing introduction.

"It's nice to meet you." Jillian said, shaking their hands and then turning toward her mother. "And college may not have taught me how to do laundry, Mom, but you surely did with that fertile Myrtle body of yours and your penchant for men. I'm just letting you help me out because I know how much you love me." She leaned down and gave her mother a kiss on the cheek.

Marianne chuckled. "Ah, now you're letting me help you. I see. Well, lucky for you I don't mind. Your clothes are all washed and folded and in the basket in the laundry room. And you better not leave without saying hello to your siblings."

"Like I could get out of this house without them noticing. If you'll all excuse me," Jillian said as she breezed out of the kitchen.

"She is a lovely young lady, Marianne," Anna said. "How old is she?"

"She just turned nineteen last month but she has almost enough credits to be considered a junior in college. She and her best friend graduated from high school last year and immediately got an apartment together. I think it was a bid to exert their independence. I'm so proud of her. Oh, heck, I'm proud of all my kids."

"How many children do you have?" Van asked.

"By most standards, too many," Marianne said with a chuckle. "I had one or two with each husband. Including Jillian, I have eight altogether. My current husband is the father of the youngest two. He's also the youngest of my hubbies. I think he's a keeper."

"So, your first husband was Jillian's father?" Vanessa asked.

Marianne's face tightened. "No, he wasn't. I had Jillian before I met my first husband."

She stood and walked to the refrigerator. "Can I interest either of you ladies in a piece of pie? It's red raspberry – I picked the berries myself."

Not waiting for an answer, she busied herself with getting them each a slice of pie with freshly whipped sweet cream.

"This is delicious, Marianne. Thank you," Anna said and Vanessa nodded in silent agreement.

Marianne pushed her plate away. "Grace said you had some questions about Eliza Morgan. I'm not sure I can really help."

"You can't or you won't," Vanessa asked gently.

Marianne looked at Vanessa discerningly. "You know, don't you?"

Van licked her lips. "I suspect but no, I don't know anything. Marianne. Or should I call you Mary?"

Marianne studied her folded hands, her lips pressed in a tight line. "It was so long ago."

"Were you working at Mama's Kitchen when it happened?"

Marianne sighed. "Yes. I bounced around for awhile after graduating from the system. Liz tried to get me to come to Richford with her and Grace, but I had met this guy, and thought I'd found another way out. Big mistake, but of course, not my first where men were concerned. I didn't end up at Mama's Kitchen until a couple years later. Grace actually told me I should go to TNT and give it a try. She said it was the best move she ever made."

"What happened?"

"For a couple years I was really happy at Mama's Kitchen. Met some nice guys, made good money. I even had plans to go to school. Then Jarod came along and I got pregnant."

This sounded all too familiar to Vanessa and her mind was leaping ahead. "Let me guess. Jarod was a rich college guy who got you pregnant and then flaked out on you. Did Callisto get money from Jarod for you?"

"Yes," Marianne said quietly. "And he let me stay and work at the diner until I was into my third trimester. The trouble didn't really start until after that."

"I'm not sure I understand, Marianne. What kind of trouble? And how did Eliza get involved?" Vanessa asked. "By that time she had been living in Chicago for at least six years."

Marianne's lips turned down in sadness. "Yeah, but she always checked in on me and Grace from time to time. When she found out what had happened, she took care of everything. She came and got me out of that 'home for unwed mothers' that they stuck me in, and she contacted a man about setting me up with a new identity. She even gave me enough money to get by until I could find a job and a place to stay. I would have lost Jillian if it wasn't for Lizzy."

"Lost her? How?" Vanessa asked.

"Those people weren't going to let me keep her. I know I had signed papers giving them permission to look for an adoptive family for my baby. But when the time came, I just couldn't go through with it. They wouldn't listen, though. They told me that I didn't have any choice. If Lizzy hadn't helped me disappear I know they would have taken Jillian. I probably never would have even seen my baby girl."

Vanessa looked at Marianne, her heart racing. "What people were trying to take your baby, Marianne? The Padovanos?"

"The Padovanos? You mean, Callisto? No." Marianne said. "I mean, Callisto did send me to the adoption agency . . ."

"What adoption agency?" Vanessa asked.

"The Turner's adoption agency, of course. I think they called it Happy Homes or something like that," Marianne said. "It was in the same building as TNT."

Vanessa leaned forward. "Marianne, when did all of this take place?"

"Mid to late April, just a couple months before Jillian was born," Marianne said. "It was still pretty cold when I moved to Rochester but the weather was turning."

"That would be less than a month before Eliza was killed." Vanessa jumped up from the table. "Oh my God, Anna. We have to get back to Ithaca. I . . . I better warn Frank and Joe. Nancy could be in terrible danger if the Turners figure out why she's there."

Marianne stood and followed them to the door. "Danger? What kind of danger? What do you mean Eliza was killed? When?"

Vanessa patted the woman's arm in comfort even as she pulled out her cell to compose a succinct text message.

"Eliza was killed less than a month after she helped you relocate, Marianne."

Marianne's hand flew to her mouth, her eyes wide and frightened. "You don't think it was my fault? Oh, I couldn't bear that. Lizzy was the best friend I ever had."

"It wasn't your fault, Marianne," Vanessa said earnestly. "I promise, I'll be back in touch when I know more."

Grasping Vanessa's arm, Marianne asked in a breathless voice. "They wouldn't come after me or Jillian, would they?"

"I don't think they know where you are, Marianne. You should be safe. Please, I have to go. I'll be back in touch as soon as possible. I promise."

Vanessa dropped into the car as she sent the text message to both Frank and Joe.

As she expected her phone was ringing within minutes.

nhnhnhnhnhnh

Joe stepped off the elevator and took a quick survey of the floor. The upper floors of the office building were built on a simple plan, with office suites on either side of a central hall. The elevator ran through a shaft at one end of the building. On the floor that TNT was on, though, the suites had been remodeled to combine them into a single office complex with the entrance located right next to the elevator. At the end of a short hall was another door that Joe suspected led to the fire stairwell he recalled seeing on the blueprints.

Through the glass fronted doors Joe saw a waiting room with a reception desk located in the corner of the room. He strode into the office and smiled at the pretty, petite woman behind the desk. According to her name plate she was Lisa.

"Hi, Lisa. I was told to come here to meet with a Mr. Jim Bowers. Do you know if he's in?"

The young woman's warm smile turned to a frown. "I'm sorry, did you say Jim Bowers? I'm afraid his offices aren't even in this building. He's located just down the street in the Law Advocates office."

Just the fact that the TNT receptionist knew who Jim Bowers was worried Joe. "Oh, I'm so sorry. I must have gotten my directions wrong. Can you tell me where I can find him – Jim Bowers that is?"

"Um, well," she sighed and considered Joe for several seconds. She finally stood and pulled out a rudimentary map of the business district. She circled a location and turned it so Joe could read the map. "Mr. Bowers' office is located in this building just a block and a half east on the opposite side of the main road."

Joe took the map with a grateful smile. "Thanks. That's a big help. I hope I'm not too late for our appointment . . ."

The receptionist cast an uncertain glance toward a door that appeared to lead into the interior office suite and then turned to place a restraining hand on Joe's arm.

"Actually, I . . . I happen to know Mr. Bowers isn't in the office right now."

"Oh?"

"Well, it's funny you came here looking for him because he's in a meeting with Mr. Turner right now."

"He's here?" Joe tensed.

She indicated the door that led to the office suite. "He walked through there just a little while ago."

"Oh, well, thanks. I guess that means I don't need to worry about being late."

Joe turned and walked back out into the elevator lobby, pulling out his cell as he went. He hit the speed dial for his brother.

"Where are you, bro? I think we might have a situation."

Frank's voice snapped like a high tension wire. "Did you get Vanessa's text?"

"No, what's up?"

"Turners are involved, Joe."

"Shit. And by now they know who Nan is, too – Jim Bowers is in the TNT offices as we speak."

"I'm almost there."

Joe looked around the elevator lobby. "They can't get out past me where I am now," he said.

"You're sure they're still there? They haven't already left, have they?"

"I assume they're still here. The receptionist said that Jim Bowers was still here."

"I'll be there in less than ten minutes," Frank said. "We're pulling the plug on the undercover thing, now."

nhnhnhnhnhnh

Nick smirked at Nancy. "TNT placed your mother and her friends at Mama's Kitchen – we have a long-standing business relationship with Callisto Padovano. But you knew that didn't you?"

"Yes. That's why I'm here. Mama's Kitchen seems to get all of their waitresses through TNT so I figured it was the only in I had to a job. Are you telling me that in thirty years of business you never had even an inkling that there was something shady going on there?"

Nancy watched the two men's reactions to her question with interest. Jim looked like someone had hit him with a cattle prod. Nick's jaw clenched briefly but that was the only sign that he had heard her. He leaned on the desk across from her and leveled her with a calculating gaze.

"Callisto's business is his own but there are certain synergistic benefits to the relationship," he said smoothly.

"What are you talking about, Nick? We help those girls. So does Cal," Jim's alarm was almost palpable.

"Of course we do – that's what we're here for, isn't it? Her mother and her friends are a case in point. Let's see, we hadn't been in business long when Jim's young . . . protégé came to us for a job. I found it rather interesting that she refused to go to work at the Law Advocates – that's what Jimbo here really wanted." He looked at Jim thoughtfully. "That was during, what, our fifth year in business, Jim?"

Jim's face had turned red but he managed an even tone. "Yes, I believe so."

"You see, Jimbo set me and Tiff up – gave us the startup money for the employment agency and helped us get everything in order for opening the doors. He's our silent partner. Tiff's big brother, at least in spirit."

"You do good work here, Nick – you and Tiffy."

Nick's smile was smug. "Yeah, we do good work here – for the kids. Right, Jimbo? You always have had lofty ideals. You and Tiffy."

"It's what we're here for – to help the kids."

Jim looked at Nancy as if willing her to believe him. The funny thing was that Nancy did believe that he believed it. But Nick Turner – Nick Turner was giving her the creeps right now. How could Jim Bowers have missed the danger burning in those dark, shaded eyes for nearly thirty years?

Nick stood and smiled. When he turned on the charm he was a compelling man but Nancy knew what she had seen in that handsome face moments earlier.

"I think we should take Ms. Drew to meet Tiffany, Jim. What do you think?"

"Is Tiff feeling better?" Jim looked hopefully at Nick. "Is her prognosis looking up?"

"I think she's definitely taking a turn for the better," Nick said as he motioned toward the back of the room. "Is your car parked out back, Jimbo?"

"You know it is," Jim stopped next to Nancy. "There's never any parking at the Law Advocates office building."

"We'll take your car then," Nick said, standing.

Jim smiled at Nancy encouragingly. "Tiffany will be glad to meet you, Nancy. It's been awhile since she's been able to accept visitors. She went through a full mastectomy last year and has been undergoing chemo. Her recovery has been rather slow."

Jim moved past Nancy and through the rear exit. She pretended to wrestle to get her backpack out from under the desk. She was purposely holding back and considered making a break for the outer office. Unfortunately, Nick was remaining uncomfortably close. He seemed to sense her intentions and moved back to her side to take her arm.

"You and I understand each other, don't we, Nancy? Jimbo's clueless and I think it would be best if he stayed that way for at least a little while longer. I'd really appreciate it if you behaved yourself."

He purposely opened his jacket to give her a good look at his gun, leaving no doubt in Nancy's mind that he was willing to use it. He jerked her to a stop as she cleared the chair and pointed at the bulge of the phone in her pocket.

"Give it."

Heart sinking Nancy handed it over. Flipping it open, Nick's face tightened as he punched buttons, obviously reading the short texts she had sent to Joe. He dropped the phone on the floor and stomped on it. Nancy's only consolation was that she had erased the text message about Mary that she had received from Joe.

He exited through the storage room behind the office, roughly dragging Nancy with him. The exit from the storage room led straight into the back part of the hall, separated from the main hall by a heavy steel door. Next to a rear set of stairs was a freight elevator. Nancy grimaced as she realized that this shaft had been a late addition to the office building – an addition that she knew her backup, Joe, didn't know about because it hadn't been on the blueprints they had of the building.

Jim held the elevator doors for Nick and her, his smile friendly and trusting. If she could get Jim to understand just how dangerous Nick was maybe she would have an ally. Unfortunately, the two men obviously had a lot of history together. Tiffany was a total wild card at this point. Nancy just needed to keep sharp and hope that an opportunity to escape presented itself.

Barring that, she was taking her own advice and placing her faith in Frank and Joe.

They had never let her down before.

NH

A/N: Thank you to those who reviewed last chapter: Agent Striker, liferscove2118, marbleandtoast, JackieJacks, Princess In Love, Confidential Brunette, and lassie-rose. You all make my day with those little notes!

I also really appreciate those who put the story on alert or favorite!


	27. Chapter 26

Disclaimer: I don't own Nancy Drew or the Hardy Boys. The OCs are all mine, for what that's worth.

Happy reading!

**Chapter 26: Merging & Diverging**

Joe walked back into the reception area and smiled at Lisa apologetically, eliciting a flirtatious smile in response. He squelched a grimace as he recognized the validity of Vanessa and Nancy's teasing comments about his unconscious flirting. Deliberately toning down the smile, he gave her a serious look.

"I'm sorry to bother you again but I noticed that this place is an employment agency. Is this Nick and Tiffany Turner's agency? Do you think it would be possible for me to fill out an application?"

"Well, I can ask Mr. Turner if he's available for any more intake interviews today. If not, I can schedule one for you later this week."

"If he could see me today that would be ideal," Joe said. "If not, maybe I could see Tiffany Turner."

"I'm afraid Mrs. Turner hasn't been in the office in months. Not since she was diagnosed with breast cancer last year. Please have a seat and I'll check to see if Mr. Turner is available."

Joe sat at the far end of the waiting room where he could see out to the elevator lobby, just in case. It was only a few minutes before Lisa was motioning him over.

"I'm afraid I'll have to make an appointment for you for later this week," Lisa said.

Joe decided to turn up the charm a notch, hoping to gain at least an audience with Nick Turner and make sure Nancy was still alright.

"You know, it would be a huge help if I could at least talk to Mr. Turner. Do you think you could do that for me?"

"I wish I could," she responded with a disappointed smile. "But Mr. Turner left me a voice mail telling me to cancel the rest of his appointments for today."

"I thought you said he was in there with Jim Bowers." Joe hadn't meant it to come out accusatory but he couldn't help it with the knot of worry that was tightening painfully in his gut.

Lisa's face turned stony and she snapped at him, "He was but they could have left by the service entrance. Mr. Turner doesn't always tell me what his schedule is."

"Service entrance?" Joe spun on his heel.

"Hey, wait a minute. You didn't make an appointment," Lisa's voice followed him out into the elevator lobby.

He tore open the door that he thought had led to the fire stairwell, only to find a full-fledged service entrance into the TNT office suite, complete with a freight elevator.

Heart pounding, Joe ran through the unlocked back entrance to the TNT offices. Walking through the storage room, he entered an empty office area with several student desks. Next to one he recognized the smashed remains of Nancy's prepaid cell phone.

The other door into the room opened and Lisa appeared and looked at him in surprise.

"What are you doing in here?"

Joe waved a dismissive hand at her as he turned and ran back out the way he came in. He didn't bother with the elevator, instead flying down the stairs, his feet barely touching ground at the landings.

He slammed his way through the outside exit in time to watch a tan sedan pull down the side street toward the main road with Jim Bowers at the wheel.

He pulled out his cell as he ran around the end of the building trying to keep the car in sight as he called his brother.

Joe was practically shouting into the phone and didn't give his brother a chance to even say hello.

"Frank, they got past me with Nan. There's a freaking service entrance that wasn't on the blueprints. Man, bro, I'm so sorry. Where the hell are you?"

"Calm down, Joe. I'm in the lobby," Frank said. "I'll meet you out front."

"My car is right across the street."

Joe practically collided with his brother as he exited the office building. He grabbed Frank's arm and pointed as he dragged him across the street oblivious to the honking horns of oncoming traffic.

"There they go in that beige sedan. Jim Bowers is driving."

The brothers dove into the car and Joe peeled out of the parking slot to more blaring horns, cursing because he was pointed the wrong direction. At the next side street Joe chanced a u-turn but by then Jim Bowers had quite a head start on them. Joe sped off in the direction they had gone hoping beyond hope that he could catch up to them before they took a turn.

Frank put a hand on his brother's arm.

"Slow down, Joe, or we're going to get into an accident. We won't be any good to Nancy then. Besides, she still has Riley's tracer. Do you have the receiver?"

Joe gritted his teeth. "The cell phone is toast – I found it smashed in the TNT offices. I'm sorry, Frank. I didn't realize there was a service entrance. I should have been watching closer."

"It's not your fault, Joe. I'm just relieved we're not too far behind. Did you see Nancy in the car? Was she conscious?"

Frank's calm questions helped Joe find his equilibrium and he took a deep breath so he could focus.

"Yeah. Yeah, she was sitting up in the back seat next to another guy that I assume was Nick Turner."

Frank pulled out his cell. "I'm going to give Van a call and see how far out she and Anna are. Someone needs to get to the police and let them know what's going on."

"Arthur's home. Vanessa should be able to fill him in enough to get the ball rolling even if she and Anna are still a ways out."

Joe watched his brother out of the corner of his eye. He knew Frank had to be crazy with worry about Nancy and yet he remained calm and rational. It was one of the things that had always impressed him about his brother – his ability to think clearly in crisis.

Taking another deep breath, Joe made a conscious effort to follow his lead. Looking several blocks ahead, he caught a glimpse of Jim's sedan turning at the next light.

"They're turning north, bro. It looks like they might be headed to the highway."

Frank gave a curt nod. "Just don't lose them."

"Right."

nhnhnhnhnhnh

Vanessa looked at her cell and flipped it open. "Frank? Is everything alright?"

"Nick Turner and Jim Bowers managed to get past us, Van, and they have Nancy. We're trying to catch up to them now."

"Oh no, Frank! You don't think they'll hurt her?" Vanessa felt panic beginning to set in.

"When Joe saw her she was fine. Listen, I need you to get to the police. Let them know what's going on. Tell them to put a BOLO out on Jim Bowers' beige sedan – they'll be able to look up the registration. We may need help tracking them down if we can't catch up to them. And we'll need backup if we do. We'll keep you posted with our progress."

Another surge of fear sluiced through Van as she considered what Frank and Joe could be facing. "What if something happens to you?"

"Van, please relax. The police should be able to pinpoint Joe's and my location with the GPS chips in our cells if nothing else."

"Can they do the same with Nan's phone?" Vanessa asked hopefully.

"Nan's phone is sitting on our dresser at the Lavender Lady, Van."

"What about that prepaid cell you bought her?"

"Trashed. We're gonna have to do this the old fashioned way. We'll do our best to keep you posted with our location. Right now, I need you to do what you can to get the police involved. The Turners own property all over Ithaca and at this point we have no idea where they're taking Nan."

Vanessa knew Frank had to be worried sick despite the composed reasonableness of his tone. She forced herself to calm down.

"I'll call Arthur. When you figure out where you're headed, let me know."

Vanessa hung up the phone and looked over at Anna. For an elderly lady she certainly had a lead foot. They were headed toward Ithaca at a breakneck speed. Van was almost afraid to let her know what was going on. If Anna knew, she might be tempted to break the sound barrier to get back to Ithaca to help.

"How long until we get back into town?" Vanessa asked.

"Half an hour, at least," Anna said. "Are Nancy and the boys ok?"

"I have to call Arthur, Anna. He needs to go to the police."

"Arthur is more than capable, dear. You get on the horn to him and I'll keep driving like a bat out of hell."

nhnhnhnhnhnh

Frank looked over at his brother. "Did you bring all of the background files Dad gathered on the Turners and Padovanos?"

"Yeah, they're in my backpack." Joe motioned over his shoulder.

Pulling the pack onto his lap, Frank unzipped it and pulled out the accordion file. He located the property holdings information and began flipping pages.

"Don't lose them, bro, because if we do it's going to take us forever to run them to ground. Turners own property all over this part of New York."

Joe swallowed and Frank considered him through narrowed eyes. "What's wrong, little brother?"

"I'm not sure I'm following the right car."

"Damn it!" Frank's hand clenched in his hair. He could feel his calm slipping and he knew that wouldn't do anyone any good.

Joe's voice was placating. "I know I was following Jim when we took the 121 exit north. We're already past Tompkins, so I think it's unlikely that they're taking her into Ithaca proper. I think we need to look at this logically. I mean, where would you take Nancy if you were in Jim Bowers' and Nick Turner's shoes?" Joe said.

Frank stared out the window and considered the question seriously.

"If I were in their shoes I'd be running," he said. "They have to know that we're on to them at this point."

Shaking his head in frustration, Frank began flipping through the file again, setting aside the places that were south of their current location.

"Jim Bowers really seemed like a pretty decent guy when Nan and I met with him. I'm having trouble reconciling that with what's happening."

"You said you'd be running," Joe's tone was thoughtful. "You're right, bro! And if you're gonna run you need supplies and cash and . . ." Joe snapped his fingers. "And it was only Jim and Nick!"

Frank grunted. "I know that. How does it help?"

"Who isn't with them, Frank?"

Frank was having trouble following his brother's logic. "Just spit it out, Joe," he snapped.

"Tiffany Turner isn't with them. If they plan to run, aren't they going to have to get her?"

"Where is she?" Frank asked.

"The receptionist said she hasn't been into the office since she was diagnosed with breast cancer last year. I'd bet that means she's either at home, or in the hospital."

"We're already past the hospital. Assuming they wouldn't take Nan there, anyway, the next logical place they'd be heading is the Turner's home." Frank held out a page. "And that's the direction we're going! Good thinking, Joe."

"I have my moments," Joe said. "What's the address?"

Frank handed his brother the address as he pulled out his cell.

"I'm going to let Vanessa know where we're headed."

NH

A/N: I'm sorry this chapter was so short. It's kind of a little breather before . . . well, you'll see on Friday.

Thank you to those who reviewed last chapter: smilingspaz, Princess In Love, Vee22, GreatDays, Karmadevi, and angry penguin (well, you actually reviewed ch.18, but I still really appreciate it ;).

Thanks to those who put the story on alert or favorite, too!


	28. Chapter 27

Disclaimer: I don't own Nancy Drew or the Hardy Boys. The OCs are all mine, for what that's worth.

Happy reading!

**Chapter 27: ****Triggers & Trauma**

Nick sat in the back seat with Nancy and didn't give her any wiggle room. They drove northeast out of the city. Nancy recognized one area they passed through as being near Tompkins, the airport they had flown in and out of over the past week. Once they got beyond that she had no idea where she was aside from northeast of Ithaca.

They traveled down several secondary roads and finally turned into a drive that passed through a wooded lot to a two-story white house centered in a clearing.

Nick helped Nancy out of the car and kept a firm grip on her arm as they walked into the house. Inside, he pulled out an old metal office chair and pushed Nancy into it.

"Stay put or else, understand?"

Jim sighed. "Nick, you need to relax. Nancy just wants to learn about her mother."

"I think you're forgetting her suspicions about Mama's Kitchen, Jimbo."

Nick leaned over the low wooden filing cabinet next to Nancy and unlocked it. Pulling the bottom drawer open he began rummaging as he continued tersely.

"Why don't you tell Jimbo why you're really here, Nancy? Tell him what happened to your mother."

Jim broke in, sounding mildly desperate. "Nick, don't. I already told you that Eliza killed –"

"Killed herself. Yes Jim, I know what you told me. I want to hear it from Nancy."

Jim grabbed Nick by the shoulder. "Stop being cruel. What is going on with you, Nick?"

Nick straightened up and turned flashing dark eyes on the lawyer. "She's suspicious about Mama's Kitchen, Jim."

"Whatever shady business Callisto is up to is his problem, not ours," Jim said forcefully. "_We_ haven't done anything illegal."

Turning purposely away from Jim, Nick reached for Nancy who instinctively pulled away.

"What are you doing?" Nancy felt the dread that had been building since they left the TNT offices turn into full-blown panic when she saw the cuffs dangling from Nick's hand.

A moment later, Nick had clamped a strong hand on her shoulder and pushed her down into the chair forcefully. Though she struggled he managed to get one of her hands wrenched behind her and cuffed to the chair.

"What do you think you're doing?" Jim asked in alarm though he didn't move.

"Jim, help me, please," Nancy looked at the lawyer desperately. "Don't let him do this. It's just going to make things worse for all of you."

Despite Nancy's struggles, Nick secured each of Nancy's limbs separately to the chair with three more pairs of handcuffs such that she could barely move. He smirked at her.

"The cuffs are courtesy of some of the wonderful kids we've helped. You wouldn't believe the shit I've confiscated off of them over the years. That's the thanks we get."

"Nick, she's right, you need to stop this. What are you doing?"

Nick gave a cold, hollow laugh and turned his back on Nancy. "How long do you think it will take her to put two and two together and start looking into the adoption agency, Jimbo?"

Jim's eyes were wide, "The adoptions we've arranged have all been above-board. _We haven't done anything illegal._"

The desperation in his voice gave Nancy a sinking feeling. Jim Bowers seemed determined to remain oblivious to what was staring him right in the face.

Nick obviously had no such problem. "We operate in the gray, Jim. You know that better than any of us. You really think she isn't going to be able to find any number of those girls that will say we forced them to give up their babies? She knows about Mary, Jim. Mary Boroski – you remember her, don't you?"

"Eliza's friend?" Jim asked. "That was nearly twenty years ago, Nick. Why does it matter now?"

Nick got in Jim's face. "Because you're as blind now as you were then, Jim. And just like I did then, I'm going to be the one to cover your ass."

Jim's face blanched. "Oh my God, Nick. What did you do?"

Nick laughed as he turned toward Nancy.

His smile made her flesh crawl. "I told you, oblivious. Jimbo is fucking oblivious."

"I asked you a question, Nick," Jim said tightly.

Turning on him, Nick growled. "I did what had to be done to protect all of us – you, me … Tiffany." He pointed at Nancy. "You really think she doesn't suspect?"

"Suspect what?" Jim looked almost afraid to hear the answer.

Nick's voice was low and dangerous. "I think by now even you know _what_."

In a surprising explosion of anger, Jim grabbed Nick by the front of his shirt and slammed him against the wall. "You son of a bitch you _did_ kill her! I told you I would take care of it. Eliza was not your problem!"

"She was a problem for all of us. You were just too blinded by lust to see it," Nick said, pushing the lawyer off. "She made Mary disappear. Next thing you know she would have been going to the cops. I couldn't take that chance. _We_ couldn't take that chance."

"Now what? Are you going to kill her daughter, too? Her daughter's fiancé? Where does it stop, Nick?" Jim sank into a chair and dropped his head into his hands. "What have you done?"

Nick stood over the man, his gaze cold and distant. "I've done what you and Tiffany always expected me to do – I took care of business."

"Not like this. It was never supposed to be like this." Jim looked up at Nick. "Do you think her fiancé is going to let this go? He's Fenton Hardy's son for Christ's sake."

Nancy felt an incongruous surge of satisfaction at the frightened look that flashed across Nick Turner's face. "Fenton Hardy – the private investigator out of New York City?"

"The same," Jim said.

"That would have been good information to have earlier, Jimbo." Nick began pacing.

"Does Tiffany know?"

"Of course she knows," Nick said, though he averted his eyes from Jim when he spoke. Nancy wondered if Tiffany Turner really did know what a scumbag her husband was.

Jim's voice was defeated. "What the hell are we going to do now?"

Obviously Jim believed that Tiffany was involved. Nancy grimaced as she realized that that was likely what Nick wanted. Jim might have been inclined to let Nick go to jail but he wasn't about to turn his adopted little sister in to the cops.

"I'm thinking," Nick said.

"Let's run, Nicky," Jim said tentatively. "I'll clear out our bank accounts and we can load Tiffy into the car and head out of the country."

"What about her?"

"Leave her here. Frank Hardy is bound to find her. By then we'll be long gone."

Nick was silent for several long minutes before nodding slowly, his expression clearing as if he had come to a decision.

"Ok. You stay here with her, just in case. I'll get packed and get Tiff into the car. Just give me a little bit of time."

Jim's face reflected concern. "Do you need help with Tiffy? Is it safe to move her? I didn't think about that."

"She'll be alright. Just keep an eye on the girl. I'll come get you when we're ready to go."

Nick disappeared up the stairs.

Nancy snorted. "You bought that?"

Jim turned to her. "It'll be alright. I won't let him hurt you."

"You won't let him hurt me?" Nancy muttered as her heart dropped into her shackled feet. "That's great. Just great."

Where were Frank and Joe?

nhnhnhnhnhnh

Joe pulled up to the mail box and looked over at his brother.

Frank checked the number against what was in the file. "This is it."

Joe pulled the car off the side of the road a hundred feet past the drive and both brothers got out. They stopped by the trunk and Joe opened it. Frank reached in and pulled out a pair of binoculars.

"You better call Van," Frank said. "Let her know we're here and find out how far we are from having any sort of back up."

Joe nodded and made the call. Van sounded strung out and frustrated when she answered. She and Anna had just met Arthur at the police station but they were having trouble getting the police moving.

As Joe snapped his phone shut, Frank lowered the binoculars. "The house must be really tucked back in there. I can't tell whether they're here or not. I hope to hell they are or we're going to waste a lot of time checking it out. I don't think we have any choice but to go on foot from here. Is Van getting close with the PD?"

Joe grimaced, knowing his brother wasn't going to like the answer.

"Van's doing the best she can bro. I'm afraid she's having trouble navigating the jurisdictional lines, though. The Ithaca police are sending units to some of the more likely holding places in the northern reaches of Ithaca. But given our current location they have to contact the local sheriff and it's causing delays. I told Van to call Dad and get him involved. Hopefully they'll be on their way soon."

"Not soon enough," Frank said angrily. "Looks like we're on our own."

"I think we should somehow booby trap the drive - just in case they get past us again," Joe said. He shuffled in the tool box in the trunk and pulled out a box of nails. "This should work."

"Did you bring your weapon?" Frank asked.

"No. I thought when we came up here it was going to be a simple fact finding case and it didn't occur to me to grab it while we were home," Joe grumbled. "You'd think after all these years knowing Nancy, I would have come more prepared."

That won him an amused grunt from his brother. Joe clapped Frank on the shoulder and gave him an encouraging smile. "Nan's gonna be fine, bro."

Frank shook his head as he closed the trunk. "Don't jinx it, little brother. You take the far side and I'll take this side. Keep each other in sight and stay out of sight of anyone on the drive. Slow and quiet – we don't want them to know we're coming."

"Let's go," Joe said.

nhnhnhnhnhnh

The brothers began working their way back through the woods on either side of the drive, moving with a unity of purpose that only years of working together could engender.

Frank came upon a detached combination garage and workshop about a hundred yards down the drive from a white house. There was a car under a tarp in the drive to the shop but the building itself appeared to be empty. He motioned an all clear to Joe as he skirted the outbuilding and continued toward the house, which was now visible through the trees.

The drive led to the side of the house, where an attached two-bay garage stood with the overhead door wide open. Jim Bowers' beige sedan sat on the concrete pad outside of the garage. As they approached the clearing where the house sat Frank waited patiently while Joe scouted out around the front yard, which wasn't visible from the drive. There was one car in the garage. It was unoccupied but the trunk was wide open indicating someone had been into it recently. At least they knew they were in the right place. Hopefully Nancy was still with them.

There was no movement in the garage or in the area immediately visible around the house. That probably meant they were inside but there was no way to be certain. Frank took a moment to assess the situation while Joe completed his reconnaissance, despite a nearly overwhelming impulse to rush in and see if Nancy was alright. In the end, he was glad he waited.

Turner appeared from inside the house and stashed a large duffle bag in the trunk. Less than a minute later he disappeared from sight down what Frank could only guess was a stairwell to a basement.

Joe returned and signaled an all-clear shortly after Turner disappeared. Frank decided it was time to make a move.

He motioned his brother to stay put and ran for the garage. Diving under the car, Frank took mere seconds to disable it. He was just sliding out from under it when he heard Turner's footsteps returning from the basement.

Unable to see Turner from his crouched location beside the car, Frank cast a questioning look at his brother. Joe shook his head. From his vantage point, he apparently couldn't tell what Turner was doing much better than Frank could.

Frank heard the trunk slam and motioned his brother to skirt the clearing and move in on the house. Frank would keep Turner occupied in the meantime. He stepped out of his hiding place.

"Turner!"

Nick Turner looked up and sneered. He didn't look terribly surprised to have company.

"You must be Frank Hardy."

"I am." Frank said. "Where is Nancy?"

"She's inside with Mr. Bowers . . . and my wife."

Frank began to edge around the car but Nick Turner held up a hand, stopping Frank dead in his tracks. The now visible shoulder holster with its deadly weapon was nothing compared to what Turner held in his hand – a remote explosives trigger.

"Any closer and I'll blow it," Turner said coldly.

Frank held his hands up. "My brother is on his way with the police right now. You'll never get away with it."

"Try me, kid. I even rigged the windows and doors so Jimbo and your girl can't get out without blowing themselves to smithereens. Now, I'm gonna get in the car and you're gonna let me go. This is a dead-man switch so really you don't have any choice."

Frank ground his teeth and kept his distance.

Turner smiled. "That's a good boy."

Getting into the car, he turned the key in the ignition. Greeted by a dull click Turner's expression turned to rage.

Never taking his eyes off Frank, Turner got out and moved to the back of the car. He clicked the trunk open and shouldered the large duffle Frank had watched him stow there minutes earlier. He then made his way toward the bay door.

"I don't know what you did but it's not going to work. Move away from the door. You just keep your distance and we'll be fine."

Frank did as instructed. Turner moved as quickly as his burden would allow him, keeping a wary eye on Frank.

As Frank began to follow Turner down the drive, he yelled a warning to his brother.

"Turner has the house set to blow, Joe. See what you can do about getting Nancy out. And be careful – he said he rigged all of the doors and windows with trip wires."

nhnhnhnhnhnh

Joe looked through the rear sliding door of the Turner's back patio at his future sister-in-law. She was handcuffed to a metal chair that looked like it could double as a bomb shelter. Joe grimaced at the irony. Jim Bowers was nowhere to be seen.

"Nan, are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Joe. Did Frank say the doors are rigged with trip wires?"

"That's what Turner told him."

"I don't see any triggers on this side, Joe. Nothing." Nancy's voice snapped with tension.

Joe began a careful, inch by inch examination of the outside of the door as he asked, "Where is Jim Bowers?"

"After he moved me to the door, I sent him upstairs to get Tiffany. I assume she's up there. I have a feeling that if she's alive, she's not doing well."

Joe nodded, his mouth set in a grim line.

"Maybe I should go to the basement and try to disarm the bomb."

"No!" Nancy said. "Help me look for the trip wires. They'll be easier to disable than the bomb itself."

Joe knew she was right. He also knew Frank would do what he could to keep Turner talking.

But any way he looked at it they were rapidly running out of time.

nhnhnhnhnhnh

Turner smirked at Frank as he backed down the drive. "So, your brother's bringing the police, eh? Hm, wouldn't your efforts be better spent getting your fiancée out of a death trap than following me?"

"I'm not letting you out of sight with that trigger mechanism so I guess you're kind of stuck with me."

"I could blow it right now."

"And raise a beacon to every law enforcement agency in the area. Not only that, but nothing would hold me back at that point. And trust me when I say, I'm more than a little pissed off right now," Frank said.

It was slow going as they moved toward the outbuilding. Once there, Turner had to struggle to get the tarp off the car while maintaining his grip on the trigger and the duffle _and_ keeping an eye on Frank.

Every time Frank went to close the gap between them Turner would wave the trigger threateningly. The only good thing was that though Frank couldn't get to Turner, neither could Turner get to his gun.

Turner pushed the last corner of the tarp off the car and ripped open the back door allowing him to relieve one of his burdens.

He slammed the car door shut and whirled on Frank, waving the remote as he retrieved the car keys from his pocket. "You aren't getting the message, kid. Stay the hell back!"

Frank ground out. "Come on, Turner. Don't make this any harder on yourself by adding to the body count."

"Stay back or your girl and your brother will be in tiny pieces all over this wood. I got nothin' to lose, kid."

Nick Turner yanked the front door of the car open.

"That's a good boy – keep your distance – you know the longer you draw this out the more time your brother and fiancée have."

His cold smile was starting to make Frank see red.

nhnhnhnhnhnh

Like Nancy, Joe couldn't find any trip wires. That worried him more than seeing something obvious. Either Turner was lying or he had hidden the triggers well enough that they wouldn't find them.

Jim Bowers appeared behind Nancy carrying a frail-looking, unconscious woman in his arms. Joe looked up at Nancy.

"I think Turner was bluffing, Nan. I'm opening the door."

"No, Joe. Get back and let Jim do it," Nancy said desperately.

Joe ignored her and opened the door.

nhnhnhnhnhnh

Ducking into the car, Turner quickly closed and locked the door. While he fumbled with the keys, Frank found a fist-sized rock and lunged for the car just as the engine roared to life.

Frank watched helplessly as Turner leered at him through the window and made a show of tossing the trigger into the passenger seat.

In a blind rage Frank brought the rock down on the driver's side window even as the percussion of the explosion nearly knocked him off his feet – literally and figuratively.

NH

A/N: I'm sorry this chapter was so late today – it's been a crazy day (first day with the kids home from school for summer break) and time got away from me. I hope it was worth the wait! I'd say I was sorry about the cliffy, but I'm not *heehee*

Thank you to those who reviewed last chapter: Vee22, liferscove2118, marbleandtoast, JackieJacks, and smilingspaz (glad you got your computer back!).

Thanks to those who put the story on alert or favorite, too!


	29. Chapter 28

Disclaimer: I don't own Nancy Drew or the Hardy Boys. The OCs are all mine, for what that's worth.

Happy reading!

**Chapter 28: Frantic Finish**

The blast rocked both Frank and Turner, even at this distance. Frank quickly regained his footing, grabbing Turner by his shirt through the broken car window.

He managed to haul Turner part way out of the vehicle before Turner could get it in motion. Unfortunately, once Turner had his feet on the seat of the car he had the leverage to push Frank off balance.

Frank fell hard. The impact alone would have winded him and was compounded when Turner used Frank's body to break his own tumble out of the car.

By the time Frank caught his breath enough to push himself to a crouching position Turner had already rolled to his feet and pulled out his gun. Lucky for Frank, Turner's first shot was ill-aimed and shaky – missing Frank despite the fact that he was only a few feet away.

The brief thought that it would be easiest to just let Turner shoot him and be done with it crossed Frank's still-reeling mind. If Nancy and Joe had both been in that house when it exploded he wasn't sure he could cope with continuing to breathe himself. But years of conditioning wouldn't allow him to let Turner get off that easily.

Time switched into slow-motion as Frank made his move. He barely even heard the gun go off again as he sprang from the crouch and into a roundhouse kick. The gun flew out of Turner's hand as Frank's foot smashed into his outstretched arm.

The searing pain of the bullet in his shoulder didn't faze Frank, who quickly followed through with a reverse punch into Turner's kidney.

Turner went down on one knee and Frank brought his elbow down like a piston on Turner's shoulder girdle, driving the man down onto all fours.

A powerful knee thrust into Turner's face laid him out flat on his back. Frank positioned himself to deliver a final blow.

nhnhnhnhnhnh

Joe took in the scene as he ran up the drive toward the outbuilding. Frank knelt on one knee next to Turner, one hand braced on Turner's shoulder, his other fist pulled back in preparation to deliver a pile-driving blow. Depending on where that blow landed, Joe knew it could be fatal – and from this angle it looked like his brother was aiming for a killing blow. Running up behind Frank, he gripped the raised fist.

"Stop! I think he's down, bro."

Frank's voice was a barely-audible growl. "Nancy?"

"Nan's fine, Frank. A little singed but she's fine. Come on. I don't think Turner's going to get up as it is."

Joe grimaced at the visible evidence of the damage Frank had done to Nick Turner. His right arm was obviously broken, as was his nose. His dark eyes were staring unseeing out of a face covered in blood.

With considerable effort Frank seemed to shake off the rage as he shook off Joe's restraining hand. He pushed himself to his feet and walked over to retrieve the gun.

Turner groaned and shifted and groaned again as his eyes started to focus.

Joe smirked down at him. "You're lucky I came along when I did."

A shove to the shoulder made Joe aware that his brother had returned. "Go get some of that rope off the tarp. I don't want to take any chances."

Joe nodded and went to do as instructed. The next thing he heard was the sound of a round being chambered into the gun. He spun to find Frank once again enraged and holding the gun to Turner's temple.

Running back to his brother's side, he put a hand over the gun. "Why don't you go get the rope while I keep an eye on him?"

Finger tightening on the trigger, Frank didn't seem to have heard him. Joe had never seen his brother quite so out of control. He put a hand on Frank's shoulder and leaned in to talk near his ear.

"Let it go, bro. He's not worth it."

Frank's usually expressive dark eyes were flat and empty but something Joe said must have gotten through to him because he let Joe take the gun, albeit reluctantly. His next words chilled Joe to the bone.

"He's not. But you and Nan are."

The tone of Frank's voice was low and dangerous. Joe was relieved when he finally turned away and went to retrieve the rope. His brother seemed almost back to normal when he returned to help Joe get Turner secured. Once that was done, Joe motioned back toward the house, knowing that Frank needed to see Nancy.

"Go, bro. Nan's gonna need help getting loose. I'm afraid I left her cuffed to the chair."

Frank didn't have to be told twice. He took off down the drive at a trot.

The danger had passed. Still, Joe couldn't help but wonder what his normally clear-headed and disciplined brother had meant by that last disturbing statement.

nhnhnhnhnhnh

Frank rounded the flaming remains of the house at a flat-out run and felt the first rush of true relief as he took in the sight of a singed but very-much-alive Nancy still handcuffed to a chair. Nearby a pale and drawn woman lay unconscious. All around the two women small piles of smoking debris evidenced the near-complete destruction of the house.

He was brought up short by Jim Bowers, who was rummaging through smoldering debris nearby. Struck again by the incongruity of the world-weary dark eyes gazing at him out of Jim's boyish face, Frank noted with immediate concern that the man was currently pale and sweating profusely.

"Are you ok, Jim?"

Jim's hand trembled as he swiped it across his moist brow. "She told me to find a nail or something she could use as a pick."

Putting a hand on the man's arm, Frank said, "I have my pick set. Let's get you sat down."

nhnhnhnhnhnh

Nancy nearly fainted in relief when she saw Frank. Those two gunshots had scared the hell out of her.

She had to remember to apologize to Joe later. He had saved her life and in response she had jumped down his throat – screaming at him to go help his brother when the gun shots reached their ringing ears.

As Frank got closer she realized that his arm was dripping with blood. She managed to calm the initial rush of fear given that he appeared to be alert and otherwise unharmed.

Frank shoved Jim Bowers to the ground, entreating him to put his head between his legs and breathe slowly before abandoning him to hurry to her side.

He gripped her face in his hands and kissed her. "Thank God you're alright, Nan. That was way too freaking close."

Frustrated in her desire to wrap her arms around him and return the sentiment, Nancy grunted.

"I'm fine. Now would you please get me loose?"

Frank made short work of the cuffs on her hands and Nancy rubbed her wrists as he bent to free her feet.

As the last cuff clicked open, Nancy threw her arms around Frank's neck in a strangle-hold.

"I was so scared," she whispered against his cheek. "I'm so sorry, Frank. I was just so damn impatient to figure out what happened."

"It was expeditious, remember?" Frank murmured. "There's no reason for you to be sorry. We went into this as a team and we're walking out as a team."

"Yeah, well I nearly got the team taken out in one fell swoop," Nancy said in self-disgust.

Frank pulled back and gave her a warm smile. "A wise woman once told me to have faith in us, Drew."

Nancy gave a weak laugh. "I have lots of faith in us, Hardy. I guess it was just momentarily shaken."

The fiery wreckage all around them registered and Frank gave Nancy one last squeeze before releasing her.

"We should move further away – to be safe."

Nancy nodded agreement and went to take Jim's arm and urge him up while Frank got Tiffany. The ragged foursome slowly made their way around the remains of the house and down the drive. They were met along the way by paramedics and police.

The paramedics took charge of Tiffany, as the officers took custody of a resigned and obviously distraught Jim Bowers who was muttering that he didn't know how Nick could do this to them.

Frank sighed and wrapped his one good arm around Nancy, pulling her close as she turned into the embrace. They stood like that for several seconds. Finally, Nancy tipped her head back to look up at him, noting in relief that the bleeding of his shoulder wound appeared to be slowing.

"You've been shot, Hardy," she said matter-of-factly. "We should really get that taken care of."

"And you've been singed, Drew," he countered with a smile, pressing his forehead against hers. "But we're both alive."

Nancy grinned at him. "Not a bad day, huh?"

"Not a bad day at all."

Joe came running over. "Hey, uh, the sheriff wants to talk to us."

Nancy and Frank fell in step beside Joe, who spoke in an exaggerated stage whisper out of the side of his mouth.

"I think we better cooperate, bro. They aren't very happy with us at the moment. There are two police cruisers at the end of the drive with flat tires."

Frank shrugged and winced. "Just means the nails would have worked if we had needed them to – which we didn't."

"Yeah," Joe said with a self-satisfied smirk. "We're just that good."

Nancy chuckled. "Two police cruisers and one entire house. We are on a roll today aren't we?"

The three friends looked at each other and all burst out laughing.

NH

A/N: A huge apology. I know this is a day late. I had to work all day yesterday and when I arrived home the internet was out. A work crew severed a fiber optic cable between my little town and Cleveland and they didn't get it fixed until this morning. This was absolutely as soon as I could post.

It's also a bit short, but at least it isn't a cliffy :o Only one chapter and the prologue left . . .

As always, a 'thank you' and big smile to those who reviewed last chapter: Alicia Hardy, smilingspaz, Confidential Brunette, marbleandtoast, liferscove2118, Agent Striker, JackieJacks, and Princess In Love,

Thanks to those who put the story on alert or favorite, too!


	30. Chapter 29

Disclaimer: I don't own Nancy Drew or the Hardy Boys. The OCs are all mine, for what that's worth.

Happy reading!

**Chapter 29: Accusation & Accord**

Vanessa abandoned Anna and Arthur in the parking lot and ran into the hospital emergency room. The only thing the sergeant at the police station could tell her was that three victims were being transported to the hospital in Groton for treatment – not who . . . not how bad . . . not who.

Vanessa had been in quite a few emergency rooms in New York City since she had met Joe, but none like this one. It was nearly empty. That made it easy to find the one person she was most worried about. She rushed to Joe and flung herself into his arms.

"Oh, Joe, I'm so glad you're alright!"

For the first time in several hours, Vanessa felt herself relax as Joe wrapped her in his arms. It was a minute or two before she began to recognize the odd smells lingering around him – the most unpleasant of which she easily identified as burning hair.

She pulled back and looked up at him, noting the odd curling at the very ends of the hair on one side of his head. "How did your hair get singed?"

"Huh?" Joe asked, voice louder than usual.

"How did your hair get burned?" Vanessa asked more loudly.

Raising a hand from her waist to pat at his hair, Joe muttered, "Is that why I still smell burned hair? I figured it was Nan's lingering scent."

Vanessa gasped. "Oh my goodness, is Nancy alright? What about Frank?"

"Well, neither of them made it out unscathed but they were both walking and talking, so I'm pretty sure they'll live." Joe was speaking very loudly.

"You don't have to shout," Vanessa chided.

"What?" Joe asked again. "I'm sorry, Van. Nan and I were awful close when the house exploded. My head is still ringing."

"When the house _exploded_?" Vanessa asked sharply, her voice louder than she intended. "Where are Nancy and Frank, Joe?"

Joe shrugged. "I just got here myself, babe. We'll have to ask at the desk."

He seemed to be trying to moderate his volume now that he was aware he was shouting. He took Vanessa by the hand and they approached the glass-fronted desk, where a nurse sat working at a computer terminal. She looked up and smiled as they approached.

Sliding the window open, she asked, "Can I help you?"

"Yes my brother and his fiancé were brought in for treatment. I was wondering if we could see them."

She nodded, "They must be the two brought in the ambulance about ten minutes ago. They're waiting in the treatment room for the doctor. If you go to the double doors, there, I'll buzz you in. You can't miss them."

Anna and Arthur had come in while they were talking to the nurse. Anna waved them on, "We'll wait for you out here."

Through the double doors, a short hall led past the nurses' station to a row of three treatment beds with curtains that could be pulled to provide privacy. Nancy and Frank lay in adjacent beds, a space of about four feet between them. Both had their eyes closed, hands stretched across the space so that their fingers touched.

Joe strode to the space between them and clapped his hands, causing both of them to jump and sit up. "See Van, I told you they were ok."

"Joe, hush," Van said sharply.

Vanessa was struck first by Frank's blood-soaked shirt. It might have worried her more if she hadn't noticed that the blood was already starting to dry.

"What happened to you?" She asked him.

Frank shrugged and then winced. "I was nicked by a bullet. It's not bad."

"It needs stitches," Nancy said loudly.

Frank chuckled when Van jumped at Nancy's words. "They've both been shouting at me for the last couple hours, but they seem to be getting better. They were awful close when the house blew."

Vanessa was unsuccessful in stifling the gasp that escaped her as Nancy turned her head to face her. Nancy's strawberry blond hair, which had fallen in soft waves to her shoulder blades, was now significantly shorter on one side of her head.

"Nice do, Drew," Joe said with a snicker.

Nancy ran fingers through the singed remains of her hair on the right side, gingerly avoiding the burn on her ear. "Yes, isn't it lovely? One of the paramedics was kind enough to hold up a mirror for me. Luckily Joe put the fire out before the hair was all gone."

Van sat in the chair next to Nancy's bed and gripped her hand. "Cheryl, my hairdresser, is an absolute miracle worker, Nan. We'll figure out what to do to make it look beautiful for the wedding."

Frank piped up from his bed. "I think she's beautiful already."

Joe snorted. "It's true what they say – love is blind."

Nancy picked up the tiny pillow behind her head and flung it at him, hitting him square in the face.

"Of course she's beautiful," Vanessa said soothingly.

"The hair is not going to grow back in the next three weeks," Nancy said despondently. "It'll go great with my stuffed sausage wedding dress. The bride from hell."

"Sweetheart, you could show up at the altar bald and naked and I wouldn't care," Frank said.

"Actually, I think he might like it if you showed up at the altar naked, Nan," Joe said, chuckling.

Frank smacked his brother on the back of the head. "My point being that I don't really care how she looks as long as she says 'I do.'"

"Now there is a young man who knows what to say." The doctor who walked into the emergency treatment area was in his mid to late forties with brown hair and a ready smile.

He washed his hands and then moved to the foot of Frank's bed to pick up the clipboard that lay there. "Frank, it's nice to meet you. Normally I would attend to ladies first but I must admit that the blood-soaked shirt definitely captures my attention."

"He was shot," Nancy said.

"Just winged, really," Frank corrected, as the doctor donned a pair of examining gloves and made a cursory inspection of Frank's wound.

Stepping back, he took off the gloves and tossed them in a biohazard trash can. He motioned the nurse toward Frank as he spoke.

"Carrie is the attending nurse tonight and I am Emil Clark your attending physician. I'm afraid it took me awhile to take care of our first patient and I'm alone this afternoon – we don't usually get this much excitement here."

Dr. Clark instructed the nurse as he washed his hands. "Carrie, please get the shirt out of the way and clean up the area around the wound so we can see exactly how bad the damage is. Just based on the amount of blood, I'd say Frank will be requiring a few stitches but at least we don't need to extract a bullet. While you're doing that, I will take a look at our other patient."

Moving to the foot of Nancy's bed, he took a minute to skim the forms on the clipboard there before putting on a clean pair of examining gloves.

"Nancy, I believe the hair loss is probably the least of your issues at the moment," He said moving to the side of the bed. "Let's have a look."

He pulled a rolling stool up close to Nancy's right side and lifted the singed hair up out of the way so he could examine the skin underneath. "You have some nasty looking second degree burns on and around your ear but everything else appears to be first degree at the worst. We'll get those cleaned up and dressed and you should be good to go. You got off pretty lucky given the evidence of your hair."

Nancy glanced over at Joe. "Thanks to Joe."

Joe sat next to Van in a chair he had pulled into the space between the beds. He flashed a cheeky grin at Nancy.

"Glad to help, little sister. Sorry I didn't get the flames out sooner."

"Do you need anything for the pain?" The doctor asked.

"That would be very much appreciated," Nancy said.

Meanwhile, the nurse had gathered all of the tools needed to treat Frank and gave him an apologetic smile. "It would be best if I just cut the shirt off so you don't break the wound open anymore. Is that ok?"

"The shirt's a total loss anyway," Frank said. "Be my guest."

With the shirt out of the way most of the blood was now concentrated around the wound on Frank's shoulder. The nurse wasn't looking at that, though.

"Doctor, you may want to take a look at this."

With an irritated grunt, Frank waved them away. "It's nothing to worry about. They're all pretty much healed now."

The doctor moved closer to Frank and examined the scarring evident across his torso. "Are those cigarette burns?"

Frank sighed. "Not that it's really pertinent but . . . mostly, yes. Now can you please focus on the bullet wound because that's what hurts right now."

Narrowed eyes rose to gaze at Frank discerningly before the doctor turned to the nurse. "Let me do the local before you clean him up the rest of the way. It'll make him more comfortable."

The doctor and nurse set to work and were busy tending their patients when the swinging doors opened a few minutes later to admit a tall man with steel gray hair dressed in a rumpled suit.

He stopped in the hall facing the beds, feet planted shoulder width apart and arms crossed. "I take it you are the ones that I have to thank for the smoldering remains of the Turner house."

His voice was deep and resonant with disapproval.

Joe stood and glared at the man defiantly. "Actually, you can thank Nick Turner for that. And who are you?"

The man's face remained set in a stern, disapproving expression. Vanessa thought she detected a hint of amusement glinting in his eyes, but she was afraid it was wishful thinking. She knew for certain that his current confrontational tact wasn't going to fly with Joe, or Frank for that matter. He held out his badge and Joe stepped forward to check his credentials.

"I'm Detective Darren Pike with the Richford PD. Technically speaking the Turner house is out of my jurisdiction. However, given that the related murder is within my jurisdiction it was decided that I was the best person to coordinate the resources of Groton, Ithaca and Richford. Richford will have primacy on this one."

Van was very confused. "But I thought the murder occurred in Chicago."

Now the Detective looked confused. "Chicago? I'm talking about Vicky Greene's murder and her body was discovered in Richford."

Vanessa's mouth dropped open and she turned to Joe. "That's the waitress from Mama's Kitchen that Kiki told me about. Remember? Your dad found a couple of related news articles this weekend. He said her name was Vicky Greene."

Turning back to Detective Pike, Vanessa said, "But I heard that the guy that got her pregnant was arrested for her murder?"

"He was questioned," Detective Pike said curtly. "Let's get back to this murder in Chicago that you mentioned. How is it connected to this mess?"

"Well," Vanessa said slowly, glancing at Nancy, Frank and finally Joe. The guarded expressions she recognized all around made her feel like a clueless, bumbling amateur. She sat back, deciding to shut her mouth before she said something stupid. "I guess that depends on what mess you're talking about."

A genuine smile curved Detective Pike's mouth. "What mess am I talking about, huh? I like that."

He chuckled as he rolled a stool close enough to perch on. "The mess I'm talking about is the murder of that waitress and the events at Turners earlier today because I suspect the two are connected, and right now your four are my only link. Now, I happen to know at least two of you have been seen in Mama's Kitchen. You, young lady, were seen in the company of Rodrigo Padovano. Both of you young men have been observed at different times casing the place. You, Frank Hardy is it? You were seen breaking into the storage unit behind the diner."

Vanessa stifled a nervous giggle at the furious look Joe cast at his brother. "You did what?"

"Joe."

Frank's monosyllabic response was enough to stifle anything else Joe might have said.

Detective Pike's expression became severe. "If you don't all want to be hauled in for obstruction of justice or worse I suggest you clue me in as to what your interest in Mama's Kitchen is and just how you ended up blowing up the Turner's residence today."

Frank cleared his throat. "_We_ didn't blow up the Turner residence. Nick Turner did. As for the rest of the mess _we're_ talking about, to be honest it really didn't seem to pertain to the waitress' murder because we thought she'd been killed by her boyfriend. I think we can come close to explaining what's been going on between Callisto Padovano and Nick Turner, though."

Sitting back, Pike crossed his arms and nodded his head. "Kid, if you can explain this and make any sense at all I might be able to see clear to let your involvement in the entire situation slide. But you better start talking."

Vanessa recognized the tension in Frank's entire demeanor as he started. Glancing at Nancy and Joe, she realized they were all uptight about this interview. She knew it likely had a lot to do with how Detective Pike was approaching them. If he had just asked, they would have been more than willing to share. As it was, she wondered just how forthcoming Frank would be.

"We came to Ithaca primarily to see if we could figure out why Nancy's mother, Eliza Morgan Drew, was murdered nineteen years ago. In the process of digging into her life in Ithaca we began to suspect that something shady was going on at Mama's Kitchen."

"So Eliza Morgan Drew's murder is the murder in Chicago that you were talking about?"

Pike looked directly at Vanessa when he asked the question. She nodded mutely. His piercing gaze made her very glad that Frank was doing the talking now.

Frank continued, "We knew that whatever was going on at Mama's Kitchen it involved exploiting young women. But we weren't sure exactly how so Nancy went undercover. Knowing that Mama's Kitchen only hired through TNT, Nancy went there with Joe tagging along to make sure things went according to plan."

Joe nodded acknowledgement of his involvement but remained silent. Knowing Joe, Van suspected he was using all of his energy to keep his obvious anger at bay. They all recognized that Frank's level-headed narrative was what was needed in this situation. She wondered how much trouble Pike could give them. Based on the tension in the room she was guessing quite a bit.

"Meanwhile I was staking out the diner hoping to learn something helpful while Van followed up our other lead in Rochester."

Pike shook his head. "Not another jurisdiction. What's up in Rochester?"

"Grace Murphy-Hilyer and Marianne Beam – they were friends of Eliza Morgan." Frank said. "Anyway Grace's story gave us the first clue to what was really going on at the diner."

Frank related the story of what happened between Grace and Stuart Dunham in very basic terms. "So now we knew the Padovano angle of the scam but Van suspected there was more to it when Grace got cagey about discussing Eliza's other friend. That was when Grace told Van that she should go talk to Marianne Beam. Once Van talked to Marianne we were able to put together the connection between Padovano and Turner. That was when we realized that Eliza had likely been killed because she had put it together, too."

"So you're telling me that you came to Ithaca investigating a twenty-year-old cold case in Chicago and ended up in the middle of my murder investigation in Richford?"

Joe smirked and broke his silence, his tone derisive. "Looks like it. We're just good like that."

Frank reached over and smacked his brother on the back of the head, eliciting a protest from the doctor who was still stitching his shoulder.

"Hold still!"

Pike didn't look amused. "Stick to your story and drop the editorial comments. So Grace sent you to talk to a Marianne Beam."

"Yes," Frank said. He proceeded to relate Mary's story carefully avoiding revealing her true identity. "Of course having realized that the Turners were apparently involved beyond feeding Padovano a steady stream of susceptible young women, Van became a bit frantic."

"That's an understatement," Vanessa murmured.

Joe put a hand on Van's knee and spoke up hastily, "Meanwhile, I had seen Jim Bowers come into the Turner's office building which was problematic since he knew who Nancy really was."

"Only Joe didn't recognize Jim, having only seen him in photos," Frank said. "Unfortunately, it was about that time that I was, uh, checking out Padovano's storage. The files in the office provided further confirmation of the extortion and blackmail scheme that Padovano had going. I also found a couple boxes of pregnancy tests and adding that to what Van had learned from Marianne, seemed to confirm the pregnancy and adoption angle that was unfolding."

Pike broke in, "Let me get this straight. Padovano puts the girls up and when they get pregnant, he blackmails their rich boyfriends to make a buck and then turns the girls over to Turner to sell the babies – is that what you're telling me?"

"Only Padovano didn't just exploit the girls that got pregnant. He took advantage even of girls who _thought_ they might be pregnant – Grace is a case in point," Frank said. "In the storage, I found two boxes of pregnancy tests – two different brands – one marked with a plus sign, one marked with a plus slash minus. I would bet that the one marked plus was rigged somehow to provide a false positive."

"Pretty smart," Pike said.

Frank's eyes narrowed. "Maybe you can tell us what this all has to do with Vicky Greene's murder because I'm missing something. If she was pregnant then why kill her? I mean, in the scenario I just laid out she's the money ticket."

Pike considered Frank silently for several seconds before unbending enough to actually provide some facts of his own.

"Vicky Green hooked up with Jake Zezzo, a frat boy from Empire. Jake was less than thrilled when she first told him she was pregnant. As you've surmised Jake was shaken down by Callisto Padovano who passed about ten percent of the take on to Vicky."

Pike took a deep breath before he continued. "Unfortunately for Padovano, Jake grew a conscience."

"Seems to me it was more unfortunate for Vicky than for Padovano," Nancy said darkly.

Pike looked at Nancy, eyes narrowed, and then turned back to talk to Frank.

"Anyway, Jake decided he should step up. He got in touch with Vicky who offered to give him back the money. He asked her where the rest of it was –"

"And they realized that they'd both been had, so to speak," Joe said. "But how did Jake escape with his life?"

"Actually, that's part of the reason we let the rumor that he'd been arrested for the murder ride," Pike said. "Jake came to us as soon as he heard that Vicky had been murdered and told us everything. We've been staking out Mama's Kitchen ever since but we hadn't been able to put together any concrete evidence that Padovano was connected to Vicky's murder other than Jake's assertion that he'd been blackmailed. Jake's the most likely suspect and he's the accuser. The prosecutor said it was a no-go. We needed something more."

"How did you make the connection between TNT and Padovano?" Frank asked.

Pike shifted uncomfortably. "We knew Padovano hired through TNT but we hadn't recognized the significance of that – until my surveillance detail saw you at the diner today and followed you to Turner's office building. They lost you not long after that, though. They sat on your car but you had disappeared."

Frank looked disgusted. "So they missed me getting into Joe's car. Too bad, too. Vanessa was having a heck of a time getting us backup."

Pike turned to Nancy. "We kind of skipped over your involvement in this whole mess. You were undercover at TNT looking for a job at the diner, right?"

"Yes. Then when Jim showed up at TNT Nick realized why I was there. Jim seemed to think that everything they had been doing was legal and above-board. It wasn't until we got to the house that Nick showed his hand. Jim was furious when he realized that Nick had killed my mother. But Nick played on Jim's attachment to Tiffany to keep him under control."

Frank leaned forward and looked at Nancy curiously, ignoring Dr. Clark's grumbling about uncooperative patients.

"You know, we haven't gotten to go over everything you learned. How did Jim and Tiffany know each other?"

"Through the foster system," Nancy said, speaking to Frank. "We should have delved into the foster connection in more depth. It sounded like Jim had met Tiffany at a foster home and kind of adopted her as a little sister. I really think Jim would have let Nick burn for the illegal stuff, but when Nick implicated Tiffany, Jim immediately shut down. He was groping for some way to salvage the situation."

"Hang on," Pike interjected. "Are you saying that blowing up the house was part of Jim's plan to salvage the situation?"

The nurse had finished with Nancy's dressing and patted her on the leg. "You're all set. You'll need help changing the dressing a couple times a day – it's a bad place to protect. Do your best to keep it clean and dry. And here is a sample of a burn ointment to apply with each dressing change, along with a prescription for it and one for a pain reliever."

Nancy swung her feet to the floor with a relieved smile. "Thank you, Carrie. How are you doing, Frank?"

The doctor looked up from the dressing on Frank's arm and answered, "Twenty-three stitches. Like Nancy you should change the dressing a couple times a day and keep it clean and dry. Here's an ointment to apply with the dressing change and prescriptions for pain reliever and an antibiotic. The sling is more to remind you to try to keep the arm immobilized while it heals. Go see your family doctor in about a week so he can take a look and make sure it's healing properly. He may even be able to remove the stitches by then."

Frank stood, thanked the doctor and looked at his brother.

"Got that spare shirt, little brother?"

Joe produced a thread-bare button-down shirt seemingly out of nowhere. Vanessa had wondered why he had a rag dangling out of his back pocket but she had learned long ago not to bother asking. She suspected the old shirt had come from the stash of clothes he kept in the trunk of the car. She was always amazed by the wealth of supplies both Frank and Joe carried around in their vehicles.

Joe grinned as he tossed the shirt to Frank. "Good thing we're always prepared, huh bro?"

Frank smiled his agreement. Nancy had moved to his side and helped him get his uninjured arm into the shirt. She gently eased the other side of the shirt up to rest over his bandaged shoulder. Frank then tucked her under his good arm and turned toward the door.

Pike pushed the stool away as he got to his feet to block their exit. "Young lady are you going to answer me?"

Nancy shrugged. "Blowing the house up was part of someone's plan but I don't think it was Jim Bowers'. I can guess why the house was wired to blow now that we know about the connection to the waitress' murder. I think you're going to have to ask Nick Turner to be sure, though."

"And your guess?" Pike asked.

Nancy's tone conveyed exhaustion and a certain level of impatience. "Callisto was feeling the heat from your investigation and shared his concerns with his partner, Nick. Nick knew it was only a matter of time before you found the connection to TNT and started asking some very uncomfortable questions. I think he planned to set up Jim and Tiffany to take the fall for the adoption end of the scheme while he made a clean get away. My appearance in the office just served to push him over the edge and act more hastily than he originally planned."

"So he was planning to blow the place all along?"

Nancy looked at Pike like he was slow. "Yes. He kept Tiffany drugged up and Jim on a short leash worrying about his adopted little sister. Besides, there's no way Nick rigged the explosives for the total destruction we saw in the few minutes that he had between our arrival at the house and Frank and Joe showing up. He had been planning this for awhile."

She turned to the nurse who was cleaning up behind them. "Excuse me, Carrie? Do you know how the woman they brought in ahead of us is doing?"

"She was admitted but there was talk of transferring her to Ithaca – they have more resources there than we do."

"Tiffany Turner was in a comatose state when they brought her in," Pike said. "I have a couple of my colleagues upstairs waiting to see if she wakes up so we can question her."

"Where's Jim Bowers?" Nancy asked.

"He's in custody in Groton on suspicion of kidnapping, along with Nick Turner."

"How many local jurisdictions are involved at this point?" Frank asked.

"Like I said, Groton, Richford and Ithaca," Pike said.

Vanessa shook her head. "You forgot Rochester and Chicago."

"Since it appears to be an organized crime, crossing state lines –" Nancy said.

Joe finished her thought. "We get to call Nan's favorite FBI Special Agent – Dan Jarvi."

Even Van could tell the Detective was not happy with the idea of calling in the Federal Bureau of Investigation.

Frank leveled Pike with a steady gaze. "Either you call him or I will. Like it or not you're going to have to bring the Feds into this."

Pike's eyes narrowed. "I had heard you Hardys could be a pain in the ass."

Vanessa felt almost sorry for the Detective as Joe took her hand and urged Nancy and Frank toward the exit past the fuming man.

"We'll take that as a compliment."

"We need to know where we can find you to collect official statements," Detective Pike said tightly.

Frank's voice was weary as he responded, "We'll be at the Lavender Lady in South Hill if you need us."

NH

A/N: To make up for the lateness of Chapter 28, I'm posting Chapter 29 a bit early. I have to be at work all day tomorrow, and if I didn't do this you wouldn't get it until late tomorrow – if you care – lol!

As always, a 'thank you' and big smile to those who reviewed last chapter: Confidential Brunette, Alicia Hardy, smilingspaz, JackieJacks, liferscove2118, GreatDays, marbleandtoast, and Agent Striker.

Thanks to those who put the story on alert or favorite, too!


	31. Epilogue

Disclaimer: I don't own Nancy Drew or the Hardy Boys. The OCs are all mine, for what that's worth.

Happy reading!

**Epilogue:**** Gifts & Graciousness **

Frank closed the bathroom door on Nancy's grumbling. Despite being exhausted after the kidnapping and explosion, and even with prescription pain medication and an early bedtime, neither of them had gotten enough rest last night.

Then this morning he and Nancy had agreed they'd have to tag-team the showers. Nancy was a huge help with his shower but his injured arm proved problematic when it came time for him to return the favor. Getting her hair washed again was an absolute must and trying to keep the burn on her ear dry while doing so was a real challenge.

The same scenario replayed when changing the dressings on their injuries. Nancy had little trouble with his dressing but again his one handed assistance with hers proved problematic. He had finally admitted defeat and let Vanessa finish. By then both he and Nancy had exhausted their meager patience and needed some space, anyway. Personally, he desperately needed coffee – preferably extra strong.

Dan Jarvi was sitting at the kitchen table when Frank walked in. Though he was glad to see the agent, Frank suspected his presence would only add to Nancy's already foul mood. But he also knew that more than any of them, she would want to know what Dan had been able to piece together and just how close their conjecture had come to the truth.

Dan held out a hand and Frank took it in a friendly handshake. "It's good to see you, Dan. When did you arrive?"

"Here? Just a few minutes ago. In Ithaca? Sometime early yesterday evening. It's been a long freaking night."

Frank filled a coffee cup and took a seat across from Dan. "Have you interrogated Nick Turner?"

Dan's eyes narrowed and his lips curled up in a smirk. "Well, by the time the doc told me I could go in and talk to him, Turner was drugged up so much he was useless. You really did a number on him."

"That asshole blew up my fiancée and my brother and then shot me. He got off lucky," Frank said intensely.

"If you call broken ribs, a collapsed lung, a broken arm, broken nose, _and_ broken clavicle lucky – ok. Given the circumstances I suppose I should be grateful you didn't kill him," Dan said with an amused shake of his head. "Remind me never to piss you off, Frank."

Frank gave a start at the comment about killing Turner but quickly realized that Dan was just joking. If he only knew, Frank thought darkly.

He shook off the tension that the exchange had brought on and managed to flash Dan a tight grin. "I doubt you could piss me off that much, but I wouldn't recommend trying it."

"Trust me, I'm not that stupid. Thanks for the call, by the way. You were right. Pike wasn't happy having the Feds steal his thunder but he couldn't argue with the efficacy we bring to the table – especially given the local jurisdictional jigsaw puzzle we're facing with this case. That girl of yours sure knows how to land in the middle of a freaking mess."

"She does have a talent for it," Frank murmured as Anna refilled his coffee before he even asked. He smiled at her gratefully.

"A talent for what?" Nancy asked as she walked into the kitchen and straight to the coffee maker with an off-hand, "Hey, Dan."

"A talent for investigation, of course," Frank said.

Nancy planted a kiss on his cheek as she took a seat beside him, her voice sickly sweet as she said, "Why is it that I don't believe you, honey?" Her voice dropped back to normal and she murmured, "Sorry I was such a grouch earlier. Painkillers are a wonderful thing. I'm feeling loads better."

"It's ok, sweetheart. I'm glad you feel better. Neither of us is exactly at the top of our form."

"Definitely not," Nancy agreed and then turned to Dan with a smile. "How have you been, Dan?"

"Busy, Drew – especially since I met you," Dan said with a grin. "You should stop thwarting fate and just come to work for me. Put me out of my misery – or would you be adding to it . . .?"

Frank braced for the blow-up as Nancy put her coffee cup down. He was surprised when she laughed.

"You really know how to woo a girl, Dan."

Frank sighed in relief. Apparently Nancy and Dan had come to an understanding of one another at some point since the debacle in Chicago. It was a good thing, since their paths and the agent's seemed to keep crossing.

"My team is starting to wonder why you keep calling me, Drew. They're beginning to think we have something going on." Dan laughed.

"Good thing I'm not the jealous type," Frank grumbled good-naturedly.

"Trust me, honey, you have nothing to be jealous about with this character."

"I've been called worse," Dan said.

"I'd call you worse but I've been taught to respect my elders," Nancy said.

"Ouch," Dan said and turned to Frank. "You sure you want to marry that?"

"Positive," Frank said turning a warm smile on Nan. Then he turned his attention back to Dan. "How's Hank doing, by the way? He said he was going in for more tests."

"Still waiting on results. The docs aren't holding out a whole lot of hope for a full recovery at this point. And Hank's too damn stubborn to apply for full disability. He insists he's coming back to work."

"Better to be stubborn than to give up," Nancy said.

"You have a point, Drew," Dan said.

Further conversation was interrupted by Joe breezing into the kitchen. He strode straight to the agent's side and gripped Dan's offered hand in an enthusiastic handshake. "Dan! It's good to see you."

Vanessa followed closely, though her greeting was much more sedate. Soon they were all seated around the kitchen table while Anna busied herself making another pot of coffee and Arthur tried to shrink into the background. Frank thought he had caught a glimpse of Arthur's little digital camera and he was certain that their hosts were both listening attentively.

Dan was all business once they were settled. He took out a small recorder and set it in the middle of the table.

"First things first, I want to hear your story in some kind of cohesive format because from Pike it all sounded like an unrelated mess. And if you don't mind I'm going to record it."

They all shrugged acceptance and Frank took the lead, painstakingly recounting their actions over the past week and what they had learned, with the others providing details as the narrative progressed. He closed with a concise theory of what it all meant.

"So Nick Turner would screen the TNT intakes for girls that he figured were a good match for Mama's Kitchen. Callisto Padovano would take them in, gain their trust and encourage them to hook up with the college guys that came in to the diner. If and/or when the opportunity would arise, Padovano would shake down the guys for a payoff and give a portion of the money to the girls – enough to keep them quiet."

"But that's where he screwed up and ended up under suspicion recently by Pike. Vicky Greene's 'guy,' Jake Zezzo, tried to go back and mend fences with Vicky. Once they compared notes, they realized what was going on and had to be dealt with, resulting in Vicky's murder. But Pike had no idea about the TNT connection because Turner only came into the picture once the girls were noticeably pregnant and had to leave the diner. _Then_ Padovano would refer them back to Turner via the Happy Homes adoption agency."

Frank paused and Dan nodded encouragingly. "Padovano's part I gleaned from what Pike has been able to piece together. Nick Turner's part in this whole scheme seems above-board based on what you've told me so far. I know you have more or he wouldn't have tried to run."

Nancy leaned forward and picked up the theorizing. "We're pretty sure Nick would make arrangements to place the babies through the adoption agency. Jim Bowers likely handled the legal aspects of the adoptions and if all went well it probably went through as an above-board transaction."

"Where it becomes more theory than fact is the ramifications of a girl deciding she didn't want to give up her baby – like Mary," Nancy continued. "Based on what Van learned, Mary was being forced to go along with the adoption even after she said she didn't want to do it. What would have happened if my mother hadn't come along and spirited Mary and her unborn child away?"

"Exactly!" Vanessa said. "I'm guessing that if the girls would get cold feet about the adoption, Nick Turner would turn on the charm – he's handsome and Nan says he's quite the charmer. And if that didn't work, he would bully them . . ."

Vanessa's face had tightened and she stopped herself from taking the next logical step. Joe squeezed her hand and finished for her.

"And if that didn't work, I don't think Nick Turner was above taking the baby and disposing of the girl. These kids don't have any support system, he screened them and made certain of it. Who would miss them? I'm betting that's part of what prompted the addition of that 'service entrance' at the Turner's office building– what better way to get girls in and out of the adoption agency without anyone seeing them."

"And you think this has been going on for how long?" Dan asked.

"Based on Padovano's files at least twenty years, maybe a little longer," Frank said.

"Jesus H. Christ," Dan murmured. He scratched his head and looked up at Nancy. "I talked to Leo Penniman but I'd like to hear your theory about how your mother's murder figures into all of this."

"My mother answered Mary's distress call," Nancy said evenly. "I'd like to talk to Mary myself – I have a lot of clarifying questions. We know Mom set her up with a new identity and spirited her away to Rochester where Grace could help keep an eye on her. And I have to believe that if Mom suspected what was going on at Mama's Kitchen she wasn't going to just let it go."

Her gaze was thoughtful as she continued. "Again, at this point it's more theory than fact. Based on Nick and Jim's discussion, I think Mom may have gone to Jim to find out how to get Mary a new identity, which would explain how Nick found out about it. But I don't think Mom involved Jim beyond asking for some references or Nick would have been able to find Mary."

Dan nodded. "She did go to Jim Bowers and ask for advice. I talked to him at some length last night. He said he didn't realize what was going on, though at the time he wondered why Nick was getting so hairy about Eliza's presence in Ithaca. He even thought he remembered Nick going on a trip a few weeks later and he wondered if that wasn't when Nick went to Chicago and killed your mother. Hardly reliable after all this time but I do think it's likely."

Nancy was staring into her coffee cup. "I wish I knew what Mom was up to that got her killed. She had to have suspected something. I'm kind of surprised she didn't put anything about it in her journal."

"I think your mom was worried about exposing where Mary was," Van interjected. "Based on how Grace and Marianne both acted, I'd say Eliza had a darn good idea about what was going on at Happy Homes. She must have suspected that if Nick Turner found Mary he'd kill her."

Frank put a comforting hand on Nancy's shoulder, rubbing her neck lightly. "I think Van's right. Your mother was probably just trying to figure out what to do about it without endangering her own family when Nick showed up and neutralized the threat she presented to his operation."

Dan clicked off the little recorder. "Well, my job now is putting together the evidence to wrap both Callisto Padovano and Nick Turner into a nice little package for the prosecutor. Jim Bowers has promised full cooperation in the investigation in return for consideration on the kidnapping charge. I have a lot of follow-up work to do and some investigating of my own. If what you suspect about the girls is true then there may be a lot more bodies out there besides Eliza Morgan Drew and Vicky Greene. Over the course of twenty years there were bound to be any number of girls that got cold feet about giving up their babies."

"You'll keep us posted on what you find?" Frank asked.

Dan smiled. "Unofficially, yes. Nancy, since you're a material witness in the kidnapping, I am going to need an official statement from you. We're set up at the main office of the Ithaca PD if you wouldn't mind stopping by later today. It's the only thing we really have to hold Turner and Bowers on at this point. I already have a crew out at the Mama's Kitchen storage locker so I'm thinking we're in pretty good shape on the extortion side of the business. But the adoption part of the scheme could end up being huge and it's what I'm really after."

Dan stood and shook hands around the table.

"In fact, I'm supposed to be at the diner now. I'll be in touch. You did a great job here, as usual." He moved toward the door and then turned and smirked at Frank and Joe. "Oh, by the way, I'm afraid you two are on your own as far as the police cruisers. My influence only goes so far."

Frank exchanged a look with Joe, who shrugged and flashed him a smug grin.

"Two sets of tires – a thousand dollars. Bringing down the bad guys – priceless."

nhnhnhnhnhnh

"You know, I have to admit I liked Ithaca but it's really nice to be home," Joe said as he sipped his soda. It was two days since the explosion and he and his brother were lounging on the back deck at their parents' house. "What do you think is taking Van and Nan so long? Van . . . Nan . . . man it's like we were predestined to marry them, huh bro? Their nicknames even rhyme. It's a little freaky."

Frank didn't even open his eyes. "Freaky, yeah. Nan and Van are going to lunch at Andrea's, remember? And you should really lay off the caffeine and sugar."

"Yeah but they left right after breakfast this morning. I bet they're getting the works at the beauty parlor. Women have odd ideas about pampering – hair cut and style, manicure, pedicure, facial, waxing – all sounds like a weird form of torture to me. Definitely not relaxing. This – sitting out here on the deck and chillin' with my bro – this is relaxing."

Frank lifted his head with a sigh. "Really, Joe, you should lay off the soda. You're wound a little tight for a relaxing day."

"The adrenaline rush of the last few days must be catching up with you, big brother. You've been like a slug since we got home last night."

"Maybe," Frank grunted. "It's only been a couple of days since my fiancée was kidnapped and nearly blown up, followed by a long day of questions from every jurisdiction involved. I'm tired. And you won't shut up."

"You know I think those pain meds the doc put you on are making you cranky."

"Go – a – way."

Joe stood and looked down at his brother, whose eyes were once again closed. "I can take a hint."

"No you can't," Frank muttered as Joe walked into the house.

In the kitchen, Joe flopped into a chair. "Frank's being a real drag."

His mother shook her head as she carefully trimmed the ends of flowers she had collected from her gardens and arranged them in a florists block.

"Your brother has been through quite a bit over the last couple of months. Besides, I don't believe it's his job to entertain you all of the time."

"I just want to talk to him. I mean, he's barely ever home. Is it too much to ask to have a few, mystery-free minutes to just sit and visit with my big brother?"

With a sigh, his mother turned and fixed him with a sympathetic smile. "What is this really about, Joseph?"

"I just wish that Nan and Frank didn't have to go back to Chicago so soon," Joe said despondently, folding his hands on the table and twiddling his thumbs. "I guess I was kind of hoping they would stick around until the wedding. But then this morning Nancy was already talking about going home tomorrow."

Sitting at the table, his mother put her hands over his and squeezed. "I know that it's difficult coming to grips with the fact that your brother might end up in Chicago permanently, Joe, but you have to respect his decision. After all it is his decision."

Joe sighed. "I know. Doesn't make me any happier about it."

"Have you talked to him?"

"Yes. It always ends in an argument where he turns it back on me and asks what I'd do if our positions were reversed and it was Vanessa that lived in Chicago."

"And?" His mother prompted.

"I'd do the same thing Frank's doing," Joe grumbled. "But Van would never ask me to move. And then that thought process just makes me angry at Nancy and I know that isn't fair either."

His mother patted his hands and then rose from the table to return to her flower arrangement. "It sounds like your heart is almost catching up to your head, Joseph. Give it time. Frank's move to Chicago is going to require some adjustment for all of us."

Joe looked up at his mother in surprise. "You aren't any happier about Frank moving than I am."

His mother's hands stilled as she leaned on the counter, gazing out the window over the sink. Though Joe couldn't see he knew she was likely looking at her oldest son dozing out in the sun on the back deck. Her blue eyes reflected a sadness that Joe didn't often see.

"I always thought both of you boys would end up close by, raising your families near enough that I could see you regularly. I have to admit, I was disappointed when Frank and Callie broke up even if I wasn't terribly surprised. I knew where things would end up if he ever admitted his true feelings for Nancy. And while I'm glad that they're together and happy, I do have mixed feelings about what it means to me personally. I've always loved Nancy like a daughter but I can't say I'm thrilled that she's luring my oldest son away to Chicago."

"Have _you_ talked to Frank?" Joe asked hopefully. He knew Frank would have a hard time denying their mother anything – they were both devoted to her.

She shook herself and resumed her project, her gaze studiously neutral. "Absolutely not. What I want is immaterial. Frank needs to do what is right for him and the young woman that he's marrying – not what's right for me."

Joe pulled a face. "I get it, Mom. I'm being selfish."

She chuckled. "That, Joseph, is the youngest child's prerogative."

She cleaned up the mess on the counter before picking up the arrangement. "You remember that the girls and I are meeting at Andrea's for a working lunch? We're going over the final floral arrangements for the wedding. Will you boys be ok on your own?"

"We'll be fine."

Joe walked his mother out and then turned back toward the deck. For the first time since the explosion he was alone with his brother. He'd been waiting for this all morning while his mother pottered around out in the yard. He and Frank really needed some alone time so they could have a heart to heart about what had happened with Nick Turner.

As he walked back out onto the deck, Joe recognized that Frank's exaggerated sigh was meant to deter him. But Joe had lots of practice ignoring his brother's more subtle hints.

"Mom just left which means we have some alone time, bro. And we really need to talk."

Frank pushed himself to a sitting position and took a drink from his water bottle, his face comically resigned.

"What do you want to talk about now?"

"I'm being serious." Joe leaned forward.

"Fine. Seriously, what's up?" Frank looked bored.

Joe decided it would be easiest to just take the plunge.

"What the hell happened after the explosion, Frank? Because I have to tell ya, you were seriously freaking me out with Turner. I mean, I really thought I was going to have to be a witness at my own brother's murder trial. Not cool, bro – _so not cool_."

It was like a shade being drawn across Frank's entire face as Joe spoke. Frank dropped his feet to the deck on either side of the lounge chair and leaned his elbows on his knees. When he finally looked up at Joe, the emptiness in his eyes was reminiscent of how he had looked at Turner. It took all of Joe's concentration to meet his brother's gaze without flinching.

"The only person who's going to be on trial for murder is Turner," Frank said.

Joe didn't blink. "Only because I came along when I did. I can understand the heat of the moment thing. I mean, nobody blamed you for pummeling Turner into a bloody pulp after the explosion. But you were ready to blow the guy's brains out when he was already down, man. You were the one that taught me that revenge is empty, Frank. Remember? After Iola? What the hell were you thinking?"

They stared at each other. To Joe it felt like an eternity before Frank finally spoke.

"It wasn't about revenge, Joe."

"Then explain it to me. What was it about, bro? Because I don't get it." Joe wasn't allowing his brother any wiggle room.

Frank's teeth ground audibly. "You know, I think the only thing that kept me from pulling that trigger, little brother, was the fact that you were there to witness it. I wouldn't do that to you."

"Are you telling me that you were going to kill Turner in cold blood? That is freaking serious, bro."

Frank pushed himself to his feet, his expression furious.

"You didn't hear what Turner said to me after you walked away. He told me that if I didn't let him leave, he was going to make sure that we paid with our lives," Frank's voice dropped to a mocking bass reminiscent of Nick Turner's deep voice, "'Callisto has friends, kid. This isn't over. You'll pay. You, your brother, your pretty little girlfriend – you'll all pay.'"

"It was an empty threat, Frank. You know that!" Joe said.

"I don't know that and neither do you," Frank said coldly. "Remember what happened with Bucciano?"

Joe felt like he had been sucker punched. "Bucciano? Is that what this is about? You told me you didn't blame me for what happened!"

Frank's shoulders slumped. "I don't blame you, Joe. But you have to understand what I mean. How do you separate the empty threats from the ones that you should worry about?"

"Not by killing someone in cold blood!" Joe said.

Frank stared at Joe for several seconds before grinding out, "You asked and I'm answering. Yes, I could have killed Turner. If I thought it was the only way to keep the people I love safe, I could definitely kill."

Joe blew out a breath and considered what his brother had said carefully before responding, "But in the end you didn't kill Turner."

"No."

"Why?"

"I told you. Because I wouldn't do that to you. I wouldn't make you witness me doing something like that."

"What if I wasn't there?"

Frank ran both hands back through his hair. "I don't know, Joe. I just don't know."

Joe stared at his brother in sudden understanding. "That's what the nightmares are about, isn't it? They aren't about crooks coming to take revenge – they're about what you're afraid you'd do to stop them."

"They've morphed over time. I . . . I visited with Hank last week and he said something that stuck with me. He said there was a fine line between being the good guy and being a vigilante. I can see myself crossing that line – I almost did cross that line – and it scares the hell out of me."

"But you didn't cross the line, bro," Joe said.

Frank walked over and leaned on the railing, staring out across the lawn. "No, I didn't, at least not _this time_. But what about next time? Or the time after that? Criminal investigative work draws that line in front of you time and time again. I guess that's what makes Liesle's offer so appealing. There aren't any lines like that to cross in cyber space. Like Larry said, it's a safe choice."

Joe put a hand on his brother's shoulder. "You have to trust yourself to make the right decision, Frank. I trust you to make the right decision, every time. And killing in cold blood is never the right decision."

Frank seemed loathe to look Joe in the eye, choosing to continue to look out over the back yard instead. "I think you have more faith in me than I have in myself, little brother."

Leaning down, Joe caught his brother's gaze purposely. "Maybe it would be good for you to go see the therapist and work this out, bro."

Frank smirked. "I'm way ahead of you. I already rescheduled my appointment with Dr. Chase. Nan and I agreed that I should stick around Bayport for a few days while she heads back to Chicago."

"You aren't leaving? Cool!" Joe grinned at him.

"I'm not leaving at this time, no," Frank said. "But at some point I am going back to Chicago."

Despite his mother's lesson about being selfish, Joe couldn't pass up the chance to plead his case. "But just think, bro, if you stayed in New York and came back to Hardy Investigators you'd have me. You spent years keeping me from doing stupid things. If you come back and partner me again, I'll be happy to return the favor."

Frank chuckled and shook his head as he met Joe's gaze.

"I wasn't always successful at keeping you from doing stupid things, Joe."

He waved a dismissive hand. "Yeah but I'm way better than you bro. I know nearly _all_ the stupid things you could do. After all, I've had lots of experience _doing_ most of them already."

"I'll take the offer under advisement." Frank straightened and turned to face him, a genuine smile lightening his face. "Thanks, Joe. Really. Thanks."

"Anytime, bro."

nhnhnhnhnhnh

Vanessa stared at the 'SALE PENDING' sign and felt her chin begin to quiver. Was she really going to fall apart over a stupid house? She gripped the steering wheel and willed herself to calm down. It was less than ten days to her wedding. She was going to marry Joe Hardy and they were going to live happily ever after.

They just weren't going to be able to do it in this house; this perfect house, located half way between her mother's home and the Hardys'; this house that she had toured not only with her mother but with her friends and her future brother- and sister-in-law; this house that she had already decorated with their meager possessions and moved into – at least in her head. This was not going to be her and Joe's new home. Someone – some stranger – had bought it out from under them.

She put the car in drive and moved down the street as tears escaped and ran down her face. She needed to get herself under control before joining her future in-laws for dinner. Joe was already there, having gotten a ride home from work with his father to help move things around in the back yard in preparation for the wedding ceremony.

Half an hour later, after driving around the neighborhood for awhile, Vanessa pulled into the Hardy's drive and parked. She pasted a smile on her face and headed inside.

She was surprised to be greeted by Frank.

"It's about time you got here, Van," he said as he leaned down and gave her a peck on the cheek.

"I thought you and Nan didn't plan to come into town until this weekend."

Frank shrugged. "Plans change. I think Mom and Nancy almost have dinner ready. I'm headed out back to help Joe and Dad finish up."

"Where were you?" Vanessa asked as she followed him through the dining room.

"Talking to Dan, again," Frank said.

"How is the case shaping up?" Vanessa asked as they entered the kitchen.

"Vanessa!" Nancy greeted her with a warm hug. "Joe was just talking about calling you to see what was holding you up."

Laura gave her a quick squeeze on her way to the refrigerator to retrieve milk. "We're having chicken alfredo for dinner – it's Hannah's recipe, compliments of Nancy."

"It's one of my favorites," Nancy said, then caught Frank as he was exiting through the back door. "Hey you, wait. What did Dan have to say?"

"He said they've finished cross referencing all of the TNT employment records against Padovano's extortion files and managed to develop a list of likely victims. Now they're starting the lengthy process of tracking them all down. They've managed to find several women, including Marianne, willing to provide details on what they were forced to do. It's helping them put together a picture of the entire operation, along with a list of everyone in and around Ithaca that was involved. The most recent discovery was of a crematorium near Groton that apparently has cooperated with Nick Turner in disposing of evidence."

"As in bodies?" Vanessa asked in shock.

Frank nodded. "I'm afraid so. Dan said it's going to take them months to sift through the evidence – literally. There's a garden at the funeral home associated with the crematorium and apparently they use a special bone meal to feed their prize roses."

Vanessa shivered. "How awful."

Nancy had returned to the stove. "I'm just glad it's over. They can't hurt anyone, any more."

"What bothers me more than anything is that it went on so long," Laura said, shaking her head. "We all feel a bit culpable in that. We should have known that Elly wouldn't kill herself. We should have – "

"Stop, Laura," Nancy said forcefully. "There's no point in that – you were the one who told me that we need to put it behind us. No more blame, no more sadness. I think Mom would be glad to know that her friends are truly safe now and that her death is vindicated. She wouldn't want anyone blaming themselves for how or when that happened – she'd just want us to be happy that it did."

Laura smiled and gave Nancy's shoulders a squeeze. "You are absolutely right, dear. Elly couldn't have said it better herself."

Dinner was the usual Hardy household craziness with Tony and Chet showing up half-way through the meal and plopping themselves down at the table like they belonged. Vanessa tried to engage and enjoy the company but she couldn't shake her lingering upset about the house.

Nancy caught her eye toward the end of the meal. "What's wrong, Van? You've been awfully quiet."

Vanessa looked into Nancy's concerned blue eyes and felt her control crumple.

"The house –" she whispered tremulously.

Nancy's brows furrowed. "What?"

Taking a deep breath, Vanessa got herself under tight control and said, "I went by the house today. It's been sold."

Joe turned to her in surprise. "The house on Devonshire?"

"Yes," Vanessa said as a tear slipped down her cheek. "You were right, Joe. I shouldn't have set my hopes on us getting the down payment in time."

Joe pulled her close and patted her back. "Geez, babe, I'm sorry. Last time I drove by it was still for sale."

"It's been for sale for months," Vanessa sobbed. "We just needed a little more time. But no, some stranger had to come along and snatch it up."

"Vanessa, please don't cry," Nancy was crouching by her side looking slightly panicked.

As Vanessa watched, Nancy caught Frank's eye with a questioning glance. Frank gave a shrug and a slight nod and Nancy's distressed expression turned into a smile.

"Van, really, there's no reason to cry," Nancy said, squeezing her hand. "I mean, someone did put a down payment on the house but it wasn't a stranger."

"What are you talking about?" Joe's eyes were narrowed suspiciously.

Frank had rounded the table and joined Nancy as she stood. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Go on, Nan. Tell them."

Nancy took a deep breath and then smiled. "Joe, Vanessa, Frank and I put the down payment on the house as our wedding gift to you."

"What?" Joe burst out.

Vanessa leapt to her feet in shock. "Really? You mean it's . . . it's ours?"

"Well, it still has to go through escrow and there's a ton of paperwork to sign, but, yes, it will be yours," Nancy said.

"Or at least the mortgage will be," Frank said with a wry smile.

The room exploded with everyone talking at once and offering congratulations and thanks. Vanessa and Joe were both totally overwhelmed.

As things calmed down and they returned to their seats, Joe asked incredulously, "Where did you get the money?"

Frank pressed his lips into a thin line and pointed at Nancy, who shrugged uncomfortably.

"I still have quite a bit left in my trust fund, even after paying for school," she said.

Frank snorted. "Makes you wonder why the hell she was living in an ancient walk-up apartment in that lousy neighborhood in Chicago."

"We talked about this, Frank. It was all I could afford on my _salary_. And it wasn't a lousy neighborhood." Nancy glared at him. "The trust fund is for . . . for special expenses."

"Like a house," Frank said with a smile.

"Exactly," Nancy said.

"So what about you two?" Joe asked. "Have you found a house in River Heights?"

Frank ducked his head and glanced at Nancy before responding, "Not in River Heights."

Nancy looked at him in surprise and then turned to Joe. "I thought Frank and your father told you."

Joe sat forward and gazed intently at his brother. "Told me what?"

Frank's warm brown eyes met his brother's blue ones steadily. "You're stuck with me as a partner again, little brother. I accepted Dad's offer."

Laura smiled widely. "And they'll also be neighbors, Joseph. Nancy and Frank are purchasing the DiLeilo's house. They'll be living just around the corner."

Joe's smile was broad but faltered as he looked at Nancy. "But what about your Dad, Nan? And Riley? I thought you liked working for Riley."

Nancy shrugged. "My dad is in DC almost as much as he's in Chicago anymore and Aunt Eloise is in New York."

Vanessa couldn't help the sly smile that curved her lips. "Actually, your dad has been spending quite a bit of time in Bayport lately."

Nancy chuckled. "Like I said. Anyway, as I told Frank, I don't need to be in Chicago to be with my family. As for my job, well . . . I'm working on it."

The uncertain glance Nancy cast down the table toward Fenton piqued Vanessa's curiosity.

Fenton's deep voice was unusually quiet and reserved as he spoke for the first time, "That, young lady, is something we need to discuss further."

Vanessa wondered at the undercurrent between Nancy and Fenton but she quickly forgot it as she considered what she and Joe had just learned. She could see that Joe was ecstatic knowing his brother was joining Hardy Investigators and that just added to her own near-euphoria at the turn of events.

She and Joe were definitely going to live happily ever after.

nhnhnhnhnhnh

Nancy hurried upstairs as soon as dinner was over. Her cell vibrated in her pocket and she pulled it out as she entered the spare bedroom – Ned, again. She tossed the cell onto the dresser and began unpacking.

She had hung most of the clothes in the closet and was just beginning to put the folding clothes into the dresser when a light rap on the door caught her attention.

As Frank entered the room she turned and smiled at him. "Just putting things away. I figured it would be nice _not_ to live out of suitcases, since we're going to be here for the next week or so."

Frank nodded as he dropped onto the bed. "So your immediate retreat upstairs would have nothing to do with avoiding the talk Dad wants to have."

Nancy evaded his steady gaze and continued her self-imposed chore. "We discussed this, Frank."

"And I told you that it's bull, Nan. You can be so damn independent and stubborn sometimes."

"I thought that was what you loved about me," Nancy said, trying to lighten the mood.

"I love a lot of things about you, sweetheart. It doesn't change the fact that you are refusing Dad's offer for all the wrong reasons."

Nancy tucked the last of their under clothes into the drawers and shoved the empty suitcases under the bed.

"We should go downstairs and join the others."

Frank stood and put a hand on her shoulder. "Alright. But you should know that I promised Dad I'd bring you to the office tomorrow to meet with him again and discuss the offer."

"I already sent him a letter explaining –"

"I know. But I think Dad deserves a chance to counter and you owe it to him to let him do so in person."

Nancy made for the door with a resigned shake of her head. "I thought I made it clear in the letter."

"You did. But Dad doesn't take 'no' for an answer easily," Frank said as Nancy stopped by the door to look back at him. He licked his lips in an uncharacteristic show of unease. "There's one other thing we need to talk about before we go downstairs . . ."

Unsure if she was ready for Frank's 'one other thing,' Nancy crossed her arms and asked, "Now?"

"Yes, now." Frank reached over and picked up her cell. Flipping it open, he pushed a button and then held it out to her. "You need to call him."

Grinding her teeth, Nancy moved back toward Frank and took the phone from his hand, folding it closed as she did.

"I don't know what to say to him."

"Nan."

Frank's heavy sigh caused her to automatically brace for the calm rationale she knew was coming. There was nothing rational or calm about why she didn't want to talk to Ned and she was irritated that Frank was inserting himself into the issue.

Her voice was tight and angry as she interrupted the lecture she suspected was coming. "How did you know? Have you been snooping into my phone, Hardy?"

When she looked up Frank's arms were crossed and he was looking at her with that calm, knowing gaze that she usually adored. But right now it just served to raise her hackles even more.

Frank's tone was carefully even. "Aside from just handing you your phone, I haven't touched it. Just how long have you been dodging Ned's phone calls, Nancy?"

She didn't answer his question. "Then how did you know?"

"I know because Ned called me," Frank said flatly.

"How –"

"How long, Nancy?"

She licked her lips. "Ever since that weekend."

"In Chicago?" Frank's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "That was three weeks ago! No wonder he called your father and me."

"He called Dad, too?" Nancy sank onto the bed and flopped back, letting the phone slide off her hand. Ned was certainly being persistent. She had figured for sure he'd get the message by now.

She felt the edge of the bed sink as Frank sat down. He brushed the hair out of her face and leaned down to kiss her forehead, smiling indulgently.

"Yes, he called your dad, who was kind enough to give him my number. Then he called me." He picked up her phone and pressed it into her hand. "Trust me, Nan. You want to talk to him."

Resigned, Nancy pushed herself to a sitting position and made the call. Ned picked up on the first ring.

"Nancy?"

"Hi, Ned. I'm sorry I didn't call back sooner –"

"It's alright. I don't suppose I'd have called me if I were in your shoes, either. Frank explained what's been going on. I'm sorry I kept bothering you but I really wanted to . . . well, to apologize, again, for that weekend in Chicago and to tell you that, um, to tell you that . . ."

Nancy heard a muffled female voice in the background. Just from Ned's rambling she could tell he was nervous. She could picture him clearly, one hand holding the phone to his handsome face while the other patted his leg nervously. The image was as crisp and clear as if he was standing right in front of her.

"What is it, Ned?"

"Um, yeah, uh I'm engaged, Nan. To Kathy. For real this time." He chuckled uneasily.

It felt like a weight had lifted off her shoulders and she sat up straighter, eyes automatically swiveling to find Frank who smiled at her.

"Engaged? Ned, that's wonderful!"

"I told you that you wanted to talk to him," Frank whispered as he moved next to her, his hand cupping her hip and pulling her closer. She leaned her head on his shoulder as Ned's voice sounded in her ear.

"Yeah," Ned said sheepishly. "I came back to Decatur after . . . well, you know. And Kathy – well, she was like she always has been, she was just there for me. I don't know if you remember but she was part of the crowd I used to hang with at Emerson and then when we both ended up in Decatur we started spending time together again. Casually, I mean, we were always just friends. But after I realized that you and I were really over this time, I guess I let myself . . . look at her differently. Do you know what I mean?"

Looking up at Frank, Nancy began to laugh. "I know exactly what you mean."

"Yeah, I thought you might," Ned's chuckle this time was more relaxed. "Listen, I just wanted to call and let you know that . . . I hope there's no hard feelings, Nan. I care about you and I realized how much I must have hurt you. I never meant to do that and I am truly sorry. I only wish the best for you . . . and for Frank. I hope we can still be friends."

"Of course." Nancy smiled. "I feel the same, Ned. Take care of yourself and Kathy."

"Bye, Nan."

"Good bye, Ned."

As Nancy tucked the phone back into her pocket, Frank stood and pulled her to her feet.

"Feeling better?" He asked.

Nancy nodded as she moved close to him. She hadn't realized just how much the situation with Ned had been bothering her.

Frank wrapped an arm around her shoulders and guided her toward the door. "We better get downstairs. Joe and Van ran as soon as Dad got the cards out. He has challenged us to a game of Shanghai. Mom said we weren't allowed to abandon her to play with Dad by herself. He tends to get a little competitive when it comes to cards."

"Just cards?" Nancy asked, as mention of Frank's father brought to mind their pending meeting.

"You worry too much, Drew. Just relax and enjoy the evening. Dad's not going to bring up the offer tonight. Truthfully, I think he's still rehearsing what he wants to say to you."

Nancy sighed. "That makes me feel loads better."

The next day, Nancy sat in Hardy Investigator's waiting room wearing the one business suit she had packed and waiting nervously for her soon-to-be father-in-law to call her in for their meeting.

Down the hall she could see Joe sitting on the corner of the desk in the office Frank was moving into. Frank was busy unpacking the boxes of things he had retrieved from GWU earlier in the week. Joe caught her eye and waved to her to join them but she shook her head. She didn't want to be distracted by the brothers' banter right now. She needed to stay focused.

"Nancy?"

Fenton Hardy stood framed in his office doorway looking at her expectantly. Fenton was tall and lean with dark hair now salted with silver and dark eyes that were habitually guarded. She saw a lot of him in Frank, though Fenton was a bit bulkier. The likeness was a little disconcerting. Though she had known Fenton all of her life, she was more nervous about this particular job interview then she had ever been about one before.

She stood slowly and smoothed her hands down her slacks. "Hello, Fenton."

He stood back and motioned into his office. "Please come in. I'm very sorry for the delay. I'm afraid the client call took longer than I anticipated."

"That's alright."

In the room, Nancy sat down and waited. She wasn't sure what she should say. The offer Fenton had made her had been more than fair – it had been generous. Too generous. It made her uncomfortable and she had explained as much in the lengthy 'thank you but no thank you' letter that she had written to him last week.

She knew it had been cowardly to write instead of talk to him face to face. She didn't have an excuse. The truth was that when it came to personal matters she was the biggest coward she knew. A case in point was her and her father's inability to discuss what had happened to her mother twenty years ago. The lengthy avoidance of the topic had hardly been her father's fault, alone – a fact that she had finally admitted both to herself and to him.

Fenton took a seat behind his desk and considered her with a level gaze that gave nothing away. She found that gaze vaguely unsettling but forced herself to meet it.

He tapped his fingers absently on a file laying on his desk. It was the only hint that he was agitated. His hands stilled and he cleared his throat.

"I was disappointed to receive your letter, Nancy," he began quietly. "Even more so once I understood why you declined my offer of employment. I would have thought you'd know me better than to think that I would practice blind nepotism in my hiring practices. If that's what you think then I can certainly understand why you wouldn't respect me enough to tell me 'no' in person."

Nancy felt the fire in her cheeks. "Of course I respect you, Fenton, and I don't recall writing anything about nepotism. I . . . I wrote you the letter because I have trouble with personal confrontation. I just don't want you to feel that you have to hire me to get your son to come back to Hardy Investigators."

Fenton's chair creaked as he sat back and folded his hands. "I think there is something you need to understand about me, Nancy, and this is essential since you are joining my family – and regardless of whether you choose to join my business or not."

"Work and home have to be separate, no matter how intertwined. Even though I've worked with my sons for years, I think they both understand one thing about me that you need to recognize and that is that no matter what happens during work, at home we are still family. It also holds that no matter what happens at home, at work we are still professionals."

"I've seen that," Nancy said quietly. "I was always impressed by how your work conflicts never seemed to affect how you interacted with Frank and Joe at home."

Nancy recalled one time in particular when she had witnessed Frank and his father have a heated disagreement over a case they had stumbled upon as teenagers. Though the argument remained unresolved when they headed home to dinner, she remembered thinking that she never would have known that Frank and Fenton were in conflict as they joked and talked over the meal. The event had stuck with her.

"I also pride myself on my ability to evaluate my sons' abilities as investigators in an unbiased way. I approach my business as a business and its success or failure is predicated on my abilities as an investigator and as a manager – not as a father. I would not have hired either Frank or Joe if I didn't think that it was in the best interests of my business. The same is true of my decision to hire you."

He sat forward and folded his hands on the desk. "I trust you have a better understanding of how I approach my personal and professional life now. Though I would very much like you to reconsider my employment offer, I really don't want to come off as strong-arming you into coming to work for Hardy Investigators. I want you to understand one thing very clearly – if you choose to look for employment elsewhere I will support you in any way I can. However, I'm hoping you will decide that isn't necessary. I would count it as quite the coup to lure you away from Riley, who I know has been talking to you about a long-distance employment arrangement."

Nancy stared at him in surprise. "You . . . you still want me to work for you?"

Fenton's eyebrows shot up and he nodded. "Very much so. Why else did you think I wanted to meet with you?"

It took a few seconds for Nancy to wrap her head around everything that Fenton had said. She took a deep breath and smiled at him.

"Honestly, Fenton, I've always thought of you as my mentor. You and your sons are a big part of the reason I finally decided to become an investigator. You have no idea just how much I've always wanted to work for you. Or how difficult it was to say 'no' when -"

Nancy stopped herself, suddenly uncomfortable as she realized she was about to accuse him of nepotism again.

Fenton's lips curved in amusement as he finished for her, "When you thought I was only hiring you because of Frank. At times you remind me eerily of your father, Nancy, no matter how much you might look like your mother."

Nancy smiled in relief. "I'm sorry. I guess, what I'm trying to say is – I accept your offer."

Fenton walked around his desk as Nancy stood. His large hand dwarfed hers as he took it in a firm hand shake. "Welcome to Hardy Investigators, _Ms. Drew_."

Nancy smiled. "I'll only be Ms. Drew for a few more days. I guess in some ways, I'm still an old-fashioned girl. I told Frank that despite what he considers my stubborn independence, I am going to take his name once we're married."

"And I couldn't be prouder," Fenton said, pulling her into a fatherly embrace. "Welcome to the clan, sweetheart, personally and professionally."

Nancy smiled at him. "Thank you."

When Fenton opened the door to his office, Joe and Frank were both standing there blatantly curious.

Fenton grinned at his sons. "She's agreed to join us, boys."

"Alright!" Joe said, lifting Nancy off her feet in an enthusiastic embrace as he spun her around the waiting room. "We're gonna have a blast, Nan. Just wait! You'll see."

"Life is never boring with you around, Joe," Nancy said as she regained her feet and turned to look at Frank, the man with whom she would soon be exchanging vows.

He leaned against the reception desk, the amused smile on his face reminiscent of his father's.

"You got that right, sweetheart. And with both of you working here I am not going to get any peace and quiet whatsoever."

Nancy stepped in front of him and crossed her arms. "_You_ aren't going to get any peace and quiet, huh? I don't know about you, Joe, but I think I'm mildly insulted."

Joe's responding grin was teasing. "Eh, I'm used to it. You want peace and quiet, bro, you better join a monastery."

Frank's deep chuckle sent a warm shiver up Nancy's spine.

"Peace and quiet are definitely over-rated."

Nancy gasped in surprise as Frank's arms wrapped around her and pulled her tight against his chest. Despite the familiar haziness that closeness to Frank tended to create, Nancy had enough presence of mind to recognize that this was hardly professional behavior. However, a glance in Fenton's direction revealed a very amused expression.

Fenton turned a mildly reproving look on his oldest son. "None of that in front of clients. Understood?"

Frank acknowledged the rebuke with a shrug even as he dipped his head to give Nancy a warm, familiar kiss. He pulled back and flashed his father a wayward smile.

"Not in front of clients, got it."

Nancy hoped her own look was far more solemn as she turned to Fenton.

"Got it, not in front of clients."

Fenton shook his head, chuckling as he headed back into his office.

"What have I gotten myself into?"

**THE END**

A/N: Well, that's the end of this story. I have already begun writing the next in the series. I promise in this one I will finally get to the wedding. I have tentatively titled it _Covet & Commit_. It will take awhile to finish the writing process – I won't start to post it until I can do so as I did this one, and that probably won't be until September or so, anyway.

To my faithful reviewers through the course of this story – you know who you are since I've been thanking you at the end of each chapter – let me just say one last big 'THANKS!' You are the readers who make the time spent crafting the story all worth it! :) :) :)

Have a great summer (or winter, depending on your hemisphere ;) and I hope to 'see' you all again for the next installment of my series!

~Kenna


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